DPMJ: City in the Sky
by RoninS636
Summary: A certain pair of twins have employed a specific time, space and universe traveling hybrid to assist in wiping away a debt
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"How many tries would that be now, dear brother?"

"The 104th, I believe."

"Hmm. One-hundred-and-four Booker DeWitts, all fail in some manner."

"No matter what we do, something always happens that seems to offset his attempts. A bad choice, some other factor we didn't take into account…"

"They don't call these dependent variables for nothing. Well, what else shall we try?"

"...perhaps a partner?"

"A partner? Don't be daft, we tried that already: Jack Slate, remember?"

"Not necessarily. Jack Slate learned events as they were going on. We need someone who is not us that knows everything that needs to happen."

"You mean this fine-looking fellow?"

"...who is that?"

"This? This is Dante Price. He's part-human, part Time-Lord."

"Are you suggesting we go to a universe where the television series Doctor Who is real and request the help of a part-human, part-alien?"

"Oh, he's not from that universe. He's from a universe where Doctor Who is a TV series, only he's found a way of jumping dimensions in his TARDIS."

"...well, that sounds a bit unrealistic?"

"Well, I suppose it helps that in another universe he's just a fanfiction character."

"What help could he possibly provide?"

"Well, in his home dimension, we're just a video game."

"Ah yes! BioShock Infinite! Such a lovely game, though it has a bit of a complicated storyline, wouldn't you agree?"

"Think about it, brother. He's played the game before: he knows what's supposed to happen. And logic dictates he would be more than happy to take part in the events as they unfold."

"What if he tries to be a smart-alec and tells Booker outright what's supposed to happen?"

"If he's part time lord, he knows all about fixed points in time and paradoxes. Despite his age, I doubt he would pull a stunt like that."

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard to get a lock on his TARDIS's signal. After all, 'time vortex' is just another word for 'Lutece Field'."

"Exactly. Chop-chop, brother, we've much to do. And if he fails, remember: there's always next time."

"Of course. And if he succeeds, this would make a very good AU fanfiction."

 **XxxxxxX**

"And~ done!" Dante exclaimed as he twisted one last knob onto the TARDIS console. "Finally, managed to fix that return to sender setting. Now with a twist of a dial, I'll be able to summon the old girl."

Having had problems in the past with losing the TARDIS due to either the HANDS operating system or someone outright stealing it, Dante decided to repair the "return to sender" setting. It basically sends the TARDIS into the Time Vortex for safe keeping and when given the right combination via Ultramatrix, arrived at the hybrid's exact location. With a nod of satisfaction, Dante closed his tool bag and opened a compartment in the bottom of the control console and tossed the bag inside. Shutting the hatch, he dusted his hands off and was about to set coordinates in when...

 _ **BONG! BONG! BONG!**_

"What? The cloister bell? But I don't see any-"

He was cut off as the TARDIS suddenly jerked to one side and the other. Getting his footing after a couple of jerks, he latched himself onto the console and started flipping switches and pulling levers. The cloister bell only sounded when their was an imminent disaster. But when he looked at the screen, it showed that the ship was going off it's original course.

After a few moments of shaking, it ceased. The teen let go of the console board and drifted over to where the radar and the data screen were. They showed nothing. Both looked as if they were turned off.

For now Dante had two options: 1) he could remain trapped doing nothing in his TARDIS for all eternity until his sanity wasted away and he became a madman in a blue box (ha ha). Or 2) he could try to fix the problem. Ultimately, he chose Option 2.

Option 2 mainly involved screaming "what the hell is wrong with you," punctuating each word by slamming his fist into the console.

"WHAT. THE. HELL. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU?!"

Frustrated, he flicked random switched and pressed buttons until finally he gave up. He facepalmed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair.

"Just when I install something new, you decide to act all moody."

 _ **KNOCK KNOCK**_

Dante looked up from the console to the door.

"Who could that be?"

Naturally, no one responded. With a slight shrug, he made his way to the door and swung it open.

Blue skies, white clouds, anachronistic pop songs rewritten to sound like they were written in the year 1912.

Dante shut the door. "Huh." After a moment, he opened it again.

Blue skies, white cl-

He shut it again. "Well, that's-okay." Pause. "No, I-right, I need to think."

He made his way over to the console. He'd punched it, he'd fiddled with it...but he hadn't kicked it yet.

Amazingly, kicking it worked.

"Right...return to sender." He punched in a few buttons, and the familiar _**WHIIIRRRR WHIIIRRRR**_ sounded off. Hearing this, he ran over to the door and looked out. To his relief, the TARDIS was once again floating in the time vortex.

"Strange," he muttered, closing the door. "Who was knocking?"

"Us," came the reply, directly behind him.

Dante paused for a moment. "If you're the beast from Krop Tor reincarnated, I will kindly refrain from turning around."

"Well perhaps we shall try a different approach. _Would you kindly_ turn around?"

The teen bit his lip. "Yeah, I'll take that," he said after a moment. So he turned around.

Standing there, clad in what he guessed was late 19th/early 20th century clothing, were a man and a woman, both with red hair, who were looking at him with a mix of amusement and disapproval. They looked very familiar.

"How'd you get in here?" Dante asked, scratching his head.

"We drove here in a Volkswagen," the man replied dryly. "How do you think?"

"Easy there, brother," the woman warned. "He needs to be sure he can trust us."

"Wait a minute…" He stepped forward to get a closer look at the two. "Where have I seen you two before?"

"Why do you ask where-"

"-when the delicious question is when?"

Pause.

"...tell me I'm dreaming."

"Well, I suppose then we'd have to lie."

"Nononono…" Dante had to look down for a moment. "I'm…."

"You seem shocked," Rosalind commented. "Anyone would think this is the first time you've seen a video game character."

"And we've read your gospels, so we know it isn't." Robert added.

The teen looked up. "My gospels? They write gospels about me?"

"Some universes, yes," Robert nodded. "They also write stories about your mentor."

The teen finally managed to clear his head. "No surprise there. Alright...cleared head, I guess I'm fine." He really wasn't. "Just, a little surprised to see you two."

"Surprised? Or starstruck?"

"The former."

"I thought so."

"Alright, so I guess we've established that you two are standing right in front of me." He nervously tapped his foot against the floor. "Well, since that's settled-why are you here?"

The Lutece Twins looked at each other. "We understand you are familiar with the exploits of a man named Booker DeWitt?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't know who you two were/are. The whole "bring us the girl, wipe away the debt" crap you pulled on him."

"Precisely. Although that's not exactly the adjective we'd use."

"Yeah, well, no matter. What's that got to do with me?"

Robert reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white card. "We think he might need a little...help."

The teen took the card and read it over. He looked up. "Is this for real?"

"I think with what you deal with, suspension of disbelief is key."

"Look…" Dante pocketed the card. "I appreciate this, in fact I'd love to help you out. But you two were key members of creating Columbia…you know how they'd react if they saw me."

"Of course." Rosalind reached into her own jacket pocket and pulled out a strange looking object, attached to some black string. "Which is why you'll be using this."

"And what is that?"

"It's a perception filter." Rosalind handed it to Dante. "Designed specifically to make you appear caucasian, even if someone is focusing on you directly. Though to a certain few individuals, you'll look how you are now."

The teen fiddled with the object. "Well, it's better than heavy makeup," he shrugged. "So, this is it? Me helping out Booker, that business?"

"Precisely."

"Works for me." The time lord hybrid walked over to the console and punched a few buttons. The TARDIS responded in kind. _**WHIIIRRRR WHIIIRRRR.**_

He looked at the Lutece Twins. "But once this is over, I need this back, alright? I don't want this getting captured by one of the warring Columbia factions."

"We will return it to you when the time comes."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to dress for the occasion." He swung himself over the railing and down to the lower floors.

A few moments later, he emerged clad wearing a dark red button up shirt with a multi colored ribbon tied around the collar, a black vest, a black crombie coat, black and red pinstripe pants, a TARDIS blue belt with a golden buckle, black socks and grey Converse sneakers.

"Quirky," Robert observed.

"I try. Say, do you two know how to fly this thing?"

As if on cue, something came flying down from a shelf on the upper level, landing directly at Rosalind Lutece's feet. The title was, appropriately, _Flying a TARDIS for Dummies_.

"We'll learn," Robert shrugged. "Oh, I almost forgot: you'll need this." He handed Dante a shiny, new paddywhacker/hand cannon, complete with a shoulder holster. Plus a small box with about thirty rounds of ammunition.

The teen examined it. "You know, I don't really need a gun to protect myself."

"Really? I thought you were familiar with the people of Columbia."

"Point taken." He slipped the holster on, slid the gun into it and put the spare ammo in his coat pocket, before heading over to the door.

"Good luck," Rosalind piped. "I think you'll need it."

"That's encouraging." He swung open the door.

Blue skies, white cl-

"One more thing," he said, looking at the Lutece Twins. "Why me?"

"Why do you ask 'why'-"

"-when the delicious question is-"

"You know what...I don't need to know." And with that, remembering to throw on his perception filter in the process, he shut the door behind him.

The Lutece Twins stood alone in the TARDIS in silence.

"Do you really think this will work?"

"I'm afraid that's up to him now."

The human/time lord hybrid took a moment to breathe in the Columbian air.

All things considered, Columbia was a beautiful city. If only the white supremacy weren't a prevalent factor.

"Morning," a policeman greeted as he walked by Dante. "Off to the fair?"

"I suppose I am."

"I think you'll really enjoy it." He politely tipped his cap. "Have a nice day."

Dante watched as the policeman went off to a hot dog stand. "Well," he muttered. "That's the nicest thing a policeman has ever said to me."

He looked at the card. Etched out in black words were the clear instructions: " **Bring him to the girl and wipe away the debt. -R. Lutece."**

"What have I gotten myself into?" he asked to no one in particular. "Right...if the timing's correct, he should be in Columbia right now. I just need to-"

"'S'cuse me," a gruff man muttered as he walked right by Dante.

The teen stared in the man's direction. "My work is cut out for me," he shrugged as he started to follow the False Shepherd of Columbia.

 **XxxxX**

 _ **A/N from RoninS636:**_ **Uh...hi. So yeah~, I've been gone for quite awhile now. And all my other stories(bar Origins and Teasers) haven't been updated. Reason being is...well real life happened. Not going to go into detail, but let's say that I barely have the time or motivation to continue writing. That and my usual co-writer, Jason, has been busy as well. That and he has no interest in the Bioshock games. Thankfully I found someone who was interested enough to help continue this project. I'd like to thank misterbubblesishere for helping me with this story, as I've helped them by Beta Reading their own story. T** **his story is something I've had on the back burner for awhile. I've been able to get at least four chapters of it done, including this one with the help of misterbubblesishere. Now for the readers who've been following me for the long run, I got some good news and some bad news. Bad news is that the Bleach and Rosario + Vampire stories have been discontinued and are no longer "canon" to my stories. Familiar Incident is still on indefinite hiatus and Winter Sekirei I've decided to drop all together, unless someone wants to adopt it. Good news is that the rewrite of Sekirei will be coming, I guarantee that. Teasers will still be popping up, and I'll possibly still be posting stories, like this one, that have been on the back burner for awhile. Until next time, this is RoninS636 singing out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Trailing Booker DeWitt without him noticing wasn't really the most difficult of tasks.

Dante luckily knew the layout of Columbia due to the massive amounts of time he devoted into playing the game in the past. It was easy for him to find places to duck behind while a rather lost Booker took a look around.

He would stop every once and awhile to take in some of the architecture was pretty late 19th century, early 20th century-rare to see unless you took a trip to some of the older civilizations in the world. Tall buildings stood-no, _floated_ -proudly around him, decorated festively with American flags and other patriotic decor in light of the day's events. Children played hopscotch and jump rope in the streets under the watchful eyes or their parents, who chatted with their friends about this and that. There was the distinct smell of food in the air-hot dogs in particular-that had Dante's mouth watering. He found himself absentmindedly wandering towards a hot dog stand, but caught himself just in time to get himself back on track with the mission. Columbia was truly something to behold. A city in the clouds, next to a space station or an underwater city, was one of the wonders of the world.

It would be better if it weren't so virulently racist.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the small boy running around with a telegram until he collided right into him.

"Sorry, sir!" the messenger exclaimed. "Are you Mr. DeWitt?"

"Uh…" he looked up to see Booker was now gazing out at the Angel of Columbia statue. "...that's him over there."

"Thank you very much, and have a nice day!"

Dante casually parked himself on a corner, taking a moment to look once again at the card Robert Lutece had handed him.

'Knowing what's about to happen, I wish the Lutece warnings weren't so understated.'

Booker had gone ahead at this point, having received the telegram about the lottery.

"Keep going, Booker," Dante muttered to himself. "You're about to get in a lot of trouble."

 **XxxxxxX**

"Is he talking to himself?"

"It appears so, brother."

"Do you suppose he's senile?"

"Everyone talks to themselves. It's a human trait. Even we talk to ourselves-I'm talking to myself right now."

"A fair point. Does that mean everyone's senile?"

"...A wise point as well."

 **XxxxxxX**

The prospect of taking part in Booker DeWitt's journey had been exciting when proposed. That said, it was also a dark and depressing one. The upcoming threats and the waves upon waves of people that'll be sent to kill them. Secrets that'll be revealed as well as true motives to agendas. But in the end he'll have a chance to correct some things,

'But that's all in the future.' Dante thought to himself.

In reality it was more fun for Booker than Dante, who was merely trying to keep his distance while also keeping an eye on Booker. That meant he didn't really have much of a chance at playing the carnival games.

Ultimately, the only thing worth doing was looking in trash cans Booker hadn't already got to and scrounging around for items of worth.

Why people threw out so much uneaten cotton candy and silver dollars was beyond him.

After one excursion into the trash can, he looked up in time to see Booker launch some kind of green and glittery mist out of his palm and into an automaton, which opened up the gate. The automaton glowed a misty green as it said, " _Well if it isn't Assemblyman Buford. Your spot at the raffle awaits. Don't know why I didn't recognize you before. Odd. Always good to have gentlemen of your caliber at our fine fairgrounds."_

"Possession." He suspected, knowing that was one of the only vigors that could trick a machine. Not to mention seeing a sales girl near the gate with a whole basket of them. If Dante was going to get through this, he needed vigors.

He casually walked across the carnival grounds towards the stand, but before he could get there, he was stopped by the feeling that someone was watching him.

Glancing towards the gate, he spotted the Lutece Twins in their "head or tails" exchange with Booker. True to his thoughts, Rosalind had taken a casual glance towards the part-human, part-time lord in a brief acknowledgement of his existence. The moment passed, and she returned to looking at Booker.

With a deep breath, Dante walked up to the stand, just in time to witness Booker heading on.

"So was it heads or tails?" he asked.

"Both," Rosalind replied evasively.

Dante raised an eyebrow at her. "So it's like that, eh?"

The sample lady laughed. "Friend of yours?"

"You could say that. Could I have one of those?"

He inspected the green bottle he was given. Dante remembered that one's first time drinking a vigor could be a painful experience. Possession, as far as he knew, was the most painless. But for all he knew, it would taste like a strong vodka, and Booker simply didn't react to it because he was so used to alcohol.

"Well," he muttered, pulling out the top. "Bottoms up."

He let the liquid dribble into his mouth, letting it sit for a moment before swallowing. The taste? Well...it tasted like limeade.

It also made him feel very lightheaded for a moment.

"That's good stuff," he commented, trying to shake the weird feeling he had in his pre-frontal lobe.

"Mr. Fink knows how to put the kick in vigors!" the sample lady beamed. "This is just the first of a whole line for public consumption: soon he will be mass-producing these and other flavors, including Devil's Kiss and Bucking Bronco. There's a stand back in the fair where you can test out Bucking Bronco if you like!"

The loud sound of Jeremiah Fink singing "Goodnight, Irene" reminded Dante of his duties.

"Well, I'm kind of in a rush…" he said, considering his options.

The sample lady tilted her head. "Wait just a moment." She took off the basket, placed it on the table,and reached into a container. She came back up with a golden bottle which the cap/top of it looked liked a horse head

"They accidentally shipped a few of these Bucking Broncos with my sample supply." she explained. "You seem like a nice fellow, take it. A gift from me to you."

Dante nodded. "Thank you, madame," he said in his best genteel voice he could manage.

The sample lady, with a blush on her face, placed her basket back on and returned to handing out samples.

Dante walked through the gate, taking a moment to inspect the Bucking Bronco bottle. He hadn't expected to receive it so early, but there was no point in turning down a gift.

"This is going to taste like crap," he muttered, twisting the bottle and downing a healthy amount.

The flavor of vigor was sort of harmless: it tasted like concentrated cinnamon. Rather, it was his hallucinogenic bleeding hands. Reacting to the substance that caused him to scream out in pain, causing the group of kids singing the Songbird chant nearby to stop and stare at him.

"Alright, I'm okay," he breathed after recovering from the horror. "How am I fixed for time?" He checked the watch feature on Ultramatrix. "Not good at all, I guess I have to run."

 **XxxxxxX**

"Brother?"

"Hm?"

"Do you suppose that our slight intervention will alter the course of things?"

"Surprising, yes. But, ultimately only a minor deviation in the story. The order of the script might have changed, but the finale still remains."

 **XxxxxxX**

Dante ran as fast as he could towards the raffle spot, praying he wouldn't be late. Turns out, it was a wasted effort, as he arrived a few minutes early.

'Just enough time to catch my breath _,_ ' he thought to himself. His attempt to catch his breath caught the attention of two women close to him, who stared at him shamelessly.

"Handsome fellow, isn't he?" one of them whispered to the other.

"Probably running from all the other women who want him," the other joked, prompting both of them to giggle.

Dante rolled his eyes, trying his best to ignore them as he stood up straight, searching the surprisingly small crowd for his target.

He caught sight of him leaning over a trash can and muttering to himself. He caught the words 'the things people throw away…' and nodded, as if Booker could see him.

Dante turned away from Booker and looked around, marveling once again at the wonders of Columbia. He was so distracted that he didn't notice when he accidentally ran into someone else.

"Oh! Sorry!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, watch it, kid!" the man yelled in his face, before heading off in the other direction.

He shrugged. 'Some people,' he thought.

Dante reached the top of the stairs just to see in time Booker walk up to the bowl girl and grab a ball.

A man with a Snidely Whiplash mustache enthusiastically, "And now the 1912 raffle has officially begun!" He then gestured towards the girl. "Is that not the prettiest young white girl in all of Columbia?" Picking a number from the bowl, he eagerly showed it to the crowd, who cheered enthusiastically. "The winner is...number 77! Come up and claim your prize! First throw!"

Dante inched into the best spot for the inevitable violence; two rows from the front, behind two young girls with the biggest sun hats he'd seen in awhile. Before he could think on it any further, however, the stage curtains peeled apart and he felt his stomach turn.

Standing on the stage, tied to a pole, were a man and a woman-a couple, Dante guessed. They were struggling against their restraints, pleading with the man with the moustache to let them go.

"Please, please, it's all my fault, let her go, she had nothing to do with this!" the man shouted. "It was all me! Let her go!"

'These are some sick sons-of-bitches.' Dante thought, watching in disgust as the crowd cheered and laughed at the couple's suffering. He wondered if it was morally okay that he was glad they would be dead soon.

"Come on," the man yelled at the person in front who was holding the winning baseball. "Are you gonna throw it, or are you taking your coffee black these days? Hahahaha!"

The man with the baseball looked at the announcer, but Dante couldn't see his expression from where he was standing in the crowd. He knew who the man was, of course-it was Booker DeWitt, but Dante wasn't sure what he would do. Of course, when _he_ had came to this point, he had chosen to throw the ball at the man instead. But he wasn't sure if Booker would do the same. He held his breath in anticipation.

Booker held up the baseball, drew back his arm-and aimed at the announcer.

Dante let out the breath he had been holding, but before he could sigh in relief, he saw a pair of police officers head towards Booker and grab his arm.

"It's him!" one of them shouted at the announcer, holding up Booker's hand to show him.

Dante, being part-Time Lord and having knowledge of the upcoming events, knew what was going to happen next before it did. He stepped back a bit, wanting (for now, at least) to steer clear of getting any blood on his new clothes.

The next few words were spoken quietly, so Dante (and probably most of the crowd) didn't hear them. The next thing anyone knew, however, the man was announcing that the False Shepard had come and everyone was running in a different direction, save for Dante and Booker. Booker had his hand in a Skyhook and was revving it up to stick it in some unfortunate souls skull-though, they probably deserved it, Dante thought.

He suddenly realized that Booker was looking right at him, and he quickly held up his hands in surrender. "Wait, I'm on your side!" He dug around in his pockets for the card that the twins had given him-oh, where _was_ it? Oh, there! He pulled it out, flashing it in Booker's face.

Booker gave him a wary look, but nodded. "Okay. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Well it's like the card said, bring you to the girl. Watch it!" Dante shoved the PI aside as he caught the swinging arm of an offending policeman. He flipped him over his shoulder and pushed down on his throat, crushing the man's windpipe.

"Holy-! You a soldier or something kid?"

"Was. Long time ago. Right now, let's get to the point. I need your help, and you need mine. So, let's work together to save this girl from the tower, and then we can both go home."

The PI was naturally curious about his new "assistant", but didn't have much time to think about it as he parried an oncoming cops swing. He then lodged his skyhook into the officer's throat and twisted, snapping his neck. After dislodging the corpse, he stuck his hand out. "Deal."

Dante shook his hand before pulling out his Hand Cannon. "Only got about a handful of rounds for this thing before I'm out."

"Better make those shots count."

Dante nodded in agreement before firing a shot into an oncoming police officer's head. The two made their way forward. "So I guess we're partners now?"

"I guess so," Booker grunted as he looked Dante over once more, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?"

Booker shrugged. "Nothing. It's just...well, I don't really need a _partner._ They're only good for getting themselves-and you-killed."

Dante scoffed at that, knowing that he'd have a partner soon enough, one that would prevent such things from happening. But he kept that information to himself. "Well, Mr. Dewitt, I think we're both capable of handling ourselves."

"Call me Booker."

"Name's Dante Price."

"Odd name. But, I've heard weirder."

They reached the top of the stairs, where a couple more policemen were waiting to ambush them. Working together, they managed to eliminate the threat with relative ease. Booker turned to Dante once the last policeman had fallen.

"What exactly do you stand to gain from helping me out, kid?"

"Aside from accomplishing some good by taking out some of these flying racists, nothing much."

Booker looked at him funny at that last bit, but didn't comment on it. "Forgive me, but I don't really believe folk just 'help each other out' like you're claiming to do."

Dante sighed impatiently. "Look, Mr. DeWitt, we don't have time for this. Please, just trust me, and together we can take down these guys, and save Elizabeth."

The hybrid knew as soon as he said the girl's name that he had made a mistake-or, so he thought. Booker's eyes narrowed instantly and he stepped forward, moving to raise the skyhook attached to his arm. Dante subtly reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed hold of his sonic screwdriver, preparing himself for the worst case scenario.

"Did they send you? That's the only way you could know so much, is if they sent you..." he mused. He looked at Dante again, who, after a moment of confusion, nodded vigorously.

"Well yes and no. But now is not the time because-"

Dante wasn't able to finish his sentence as a group of cops had shown up. This time brandishing firearms. "There he is! Open fire!"

The two ducked behind some cover bullets went flying by them.

"We'll talk later, so don't think you're getting out of it or anything."

"Gotcha."

As one of the many policemen neared Dante, he shot out his hand and used Bucking Bronco to lift two officers off the ground. He then shot both of the mid air guards and their bodies dropped onto the ground. From afar, he heard Booker whistle, clearly impressed as he punched one of his adversaries in the face. He then gestured with his hand again, (which was now _green and glowing_ ), as a ghost flew out from his hand and into one of the officers.

Said officer stumbled for a second before opening fire on his fellow men. After they had fallen, the man shook his head before putting the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

Dante, somewhat satisfied with his work, walked over towards the bodies and started searching them for ammo (and maybe some food, it had been a while since he'd eaten). He found a couple of pistol rounds and a half-eaten sandwich. Looking at it in disgust, he threw it away. There was no way he was going to eat something that someone else had.

Booker, on the other hand, had found virtually nothing, and said as much. "I got nothing."

"I got a few bullets and a pistol. Here," he tossed the gun towards him. "You'll need it."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Dante moved past Booker, who was busy loading the bullets into his new pistol. When he was done, he clicked the safety on and off again repeatedly, cocking his head as if he saw something wrong with the design. Dante knew, however, that such was not the case-Booker was probably just making sure the thing worked.

"The fireman! He's here!"

"He'll take care of the son of a bitch!"

The two became on guard, as they moved forward towards a gate that was slightly opened.

They started to push it open.

"Is it me or is it getting hot all of a sudden?" Dante inquired.

"Definitely not just you," Booker replied, wiping some sweat off of his brow.

With the door opened, the two saw a man covered in padded armor with tubes running around his torso and a faceplate made of an old stove oven door.

"Burn in the name of the Prophet!" He shouted, flexing his arms out as the surrounding area became engulfed in flame

"Holy shit!" Booker yelled, dodging the blow. "What the hell?"

"Wonder later, shoot now!" Dante responded as he opened fire on the Fireman.

The Fireman roared in pain, jumping off of the overturned cart and charging straight towards Dante.

Said hybrid moved to the side as he spotted an automated turret up ahead.

"Booker, use the turret!"

"What turret?"

"That one, over there!"

Booker turned to where he was pointing and promptly released his Possession vigor. Then he turned and fired a shot at the Fireman, who turned his attention to the PI.

"Burn False Shepard!"

The two shot at the Fireman, dodging the balls of fire being thrown at them, before finally the armored man yelled in pain before exploding.

"Holy-!" Booker yelled, stepping back hastily before he caught on fire.

"Well...that was...a thing." Dante holstered his gun before going over to the remains. Sifting through the ashes, he picked up a red bottle that was shaped as a woman with devil horns and a tail. He picked it up and red the tag that was attached to it.

"Devil's Kiss. "Light the way." Huh." He turned to Booker, holding the bottle up. "We both have Possession and I got Bucking Bronco. So this one's yours." Dante tossed it towards Booker who caught it. "I'll get the next one that comes along."

'Thanks, pal. I gotta say, it's useful having you around." Booker unscrewed the cap and downed the bottle.

"Thanks." Dante wondered if he should warn Booker of what was about to happen, but as Booker started screaming he figured it might be too late. Nevertheless, he decided to try. "Booker, your hands-!" he tried to say, but quickly realized that it wouldn't do any good-Booker would not be calmed no matter what. Dante watched as Booker held up his hands-the skin of his fingers had melted off, revealing the bone underneath. Dante had, of course, seen this scene about a dozen times during his sessions of the game-but it was much more disturbing seeing it in real life. A bright flash of white light signaled the end of his partner's suffering, and the private investigator watched with a horrified look on his face as his hands returned to normal, as though nothing had happened.

Booker took a deep breath, still staring at his hands in shock. "Whew...that wasn't no sample."

Dante nodded, still a little shook himself despite having know beforehand what would happen. "Yeah, no joke," he says, laughing a little. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. That was insane, though. Yours do that too? With...what was it, Bucking Bronco?"

Dante nodded. "Yeah. 'Cept my hands were _torn apart,_ but you get the idea. Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the path ahead of them-empty for now, though Dante knew that there would be more enemies soon.

Booker nodded as well. "Yeah. Let's get out of here. The sooner we find her, the better."

"Right...but we should probably scavenge for supplies first, right? I mean, given that the people here literally just throw away good food, there's bound to be some good stuff in some weird places."

Booker gave him an odd (and yet somewhat amused) look. "You mean like pineapple in a chocolate box?"

"What? No," Dante shook his head as if that was ridiculous. In truth, he had found that exact thing more than a few times-but he wasn't about to let the private investigator know _that._ "No, I mean like, a couple of pistol rounds in a garbage can or something. You know. Weird places, weird items."

Booker scoffed. "Whatever you say, pal."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

After dispatching four more guards (ransacking their corpses for spare ammo), the two proceed to the a building named the Blue Ribbon. Making their way inside, they noted that it was mostly empty, with the exception of a sleeping (no doubt drunk) patron at the bar and the twins. The man wiping down the bar, while the woman was standing in the doorway of the kitchen holding a platter which had a bottle on top of it

"We have company." The gentleman said.

"We do indeed." The lady responded.

Booker sighed. "You guys again. Why are you following me?"

"We were already here." The lady said

"Why are you following us?" The gentleman asked.

"I-" The PI sighed. Clearly he was never going to get a straight answer from the two.

Dante patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, they're always like this."

The lady held out the platter holding the bottle which contained a yellow substance inside it. "Aperitif?"

"Oh, don't mind if I do." Dante walked over and took the bottle. "You got another one of these?"

"For this occasion, we do." The gentleman answered, pulling another bottle up from behind the bar.

Booker went over and uncapped that bottle. "Cheers." He then gulped it down in one set, Dante following suit, as they both made a face at the horrid taste. That and coupled with the feeling they were jolted with energy, as a yellow surface shun in their eyes before fading.

The two shook themselves as Booker asked, "Ooh...What was that?"

"Hmm. Surprising." The lady mused.

"Surprising that it worked?" The gentleman questioned.

"Surprising that it didn't kill them."

"But a magnetic-repulsive field around one's body can come in handy."

"If it doesn't kill you."

"Fair point."

"I don't understand half the things you say," Booker muttered.

Dante could only nod his head in agreement as he watched the twins discuss their...whatever was in that bottle.

"Anyways, thanks for the pick me ups, but we'll be on our way."

"Oh, of course. You should get going. Oh, and don't die. It would be dreadfully bad for your health," The lady said, nodding. "One last thing though," she then pulled out a wooden case and opened it, revealing a skyhook. "You'll need this to get around."

Dante grabbed the device and adjusted it so it would fit just right. "Thanks,' he said, admiring his new toy.

They exited out the back of the building and down a flight of stairs to a gap between them and the next building. There was however a freight hook on the side of the building leading to the next area.

"Great, now how are we supposed to get over there?"

Dante looked at his skyhook before looking at the freight hook. "I might have an idea." He then backed up and got a running start as he jumped, aiming his hook and pulling the trigger mechanism. Thankfully the hook attached. "It's magnetized! Cmon!"

Booker faltered for a second, thinking there was no way it would work. He then thought, 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.' and jumped forward. The skyhook caught on to the freight hook as the two jumped down to the platform below them. But just as they landed, a guard turned the corner brandishing a machine gun. Dante kicked out the guards legs and drove his skyhook into the man's skull. He grabbed both a spare and his fallen enemy's machine gun and tossed the other to Booker.

The duo proceed forward, using their newly acquired weapons to mow down opposing forces. Dante throwing out Bucking Bronco to destabilize them, while Booker used and Devil's Kiss to flay them. After dispatching their foes, they went into a house where they heard voices.

"Violence is not the answer! As much as I support her cause and her people, blood must not be shed." A man's voice said.

"What do you expect these poor negroes to do? How they treat them - it was bound to happen!" A woman's voice retorted before she gave a out small gasp at the sight of the two intruders.

Dante gave the two weak smile. "Uh, hi. Sorry for the intrusion."

The man looked at Booker. "It's him. The one they're after...go...they're looking for you."

"Thanks, pal, I hadn't noticed," Booker replied sarcastically.

A banging at the door put the two back to full alert. "Police! We're in need of your assistance."

"They're here!" The woman shrieked.

The man shushed her. "Keep your voice down!" He then looked back at the two. "Go, now."

The two snuck went over to the side door only for Dante to put out his arm in front of Booker. He cracked the door open as he surveyed the area, frowning.

A couple soldiers moved in and around various stands and vending machines set up in the courtyard. Going out into the open like this would be a huge mistake. They needed to play it safe so that he could slip past them without being seen.

They needed a distraction.

Dante gave Booker a nod before he flexed his hand out, conjuring up the vigor he needed.

He launched a Possession into the closest soldier. A moment later, the man raised his own machine gun and began gunning down his friends.

Thrown off by the sudden attack, the other soldiers went to restrain their possessed colleague. None of them noticing the two men slip out of a house nearby, moving from stand to stand remaining out of sight as he put distance between themselves and them.

They crouched down behind a food cart when he saw three soldiers run past toward where the possessed man was still trying to kill the others. When the coast was clear, they stepped out and jogged over to the other side of the large courtyard. Using the angel monument in the distance as their guide as they approached a gate with a symbol of an eye on the arch above.

Making sure that no one had seen them, they pushed the gate open and went inside. Shutting the gate behind them as they turned to face the mansion that was before them.

A flock of crows scattering in all directions upon his arrival as he approached a statue that was placed in the center of the walkway. Depicting Comstock fighting a large serpent with the inscription: ' **Comstock Fights the Serpent of Nations** '

"Well, isn't that charming," Dante muttered as he walked past it, following Booker as he made his way past the statue and arrived at the doors to the...whatever this place was. "Should we head inside?"

"Seems like the only option," Booker pointed out.

"Fair point."

He helped Booker push open the heavy double doors, relishing in the breeze of cold air that hit him. He pushed the door open nearly all the way so that Booker could head on in, soon following suit.

Right in front of them was a bowl of seemingly fresh fruit-but a closer look revealed that that was not the case. Most, if not all, of the fruit was rotten, and even if it wasn't, Dante wouldn't have eaten it anyways-numerous crows were picking at the bowl and its contents. Dante wrinkled his nose at the smell.

Booker didn't seem to notice, however, as he walked right past the bowl without so much as a second glance. He did stop to pick up a few Silver Eagles and a quarter-full bottle of Salts, which Dante reminded himself he needed to do every now and then.

"Is there any more?" He asked, hopeful as he gestured towards the bottle.

"You can have it," Booker said as he tossed him the bottle (which Dante almost didn't catch).

"Thanks." Uncapping it, Dante chugged down the bottle's contents and tossed it aside.

The pair moved into the next room, where a giant statue of John Wilkes Booth loomed over them. Dante made a face of utter disgust at the statue.

'These people need to be put down,' he thought as he looked at it. He turned away, noting Booker's equally uneasy expression. "So." Dante cleared his throat. "Should we go right or left?"

"Let's go up the stairs," Booker suggested, pointing at the stairwell.

"Good idea. If there's a balcony, use it as vantage point and rain down some hellfire." Dante and Booker checked their mag and loaded it back into their guns. The two went up and opened the door, seeing that a group of men in what resembled KKK uniforms standing in front of a stage. On the stage itself was a man in the same garb, with a sword in his hand and a wooden coffin strapped to his back.

"And so the Prophet led us into Peking, where we demonstrated to the Sodom below the true mission our Founders have given us. And when the Mandarins and hypocrites of Washington betrayed him, our Prophet did not heel." The hooded sword wielding man spoke.

Booker was curious why the crows surrounded him. He figured that he might've had a Vigor of some kind, as he got into in position in the front the balcony, as he conjured a fistful of Devil's Kiss. Dante walked towards the right corridor before looking back at Booker. He made a few hand signs to show that he was heading downstairs and to wait for a signal. Booker gave him a thumbs up, as the two men got into position. Getting downstairs, the hybrid went to a position that flanked the KKK rejects and made his move.

"Lady Comstock was a hamster and your Prophet smells of elderberries!"

"What the-?" Booker muttered to himself, but paid no further attention to Dante as he readied himself.

The crow man's talking ceased as he turned and pointed at the teen. "Heresy! Kill the heretic!"

"Hey! Rude!" Dante yelled, retreating back as he threw out a Procession toward the nearest attacker. Said attacker turned on his fellow men and assaulted the nearest man near him. Booker took that as his cue, as he threw the ball of fire he was building up into the crowd, catching all but the crow man in an explosion of fire.

After finishing the stragglers that survived the initial attack, the two fought the remaining men that were in the side balconies, dispatching each of them before regrouping by stage. Dante salvaged what he could from the fallen devotes of Comstock, mostly Silver Eagles and ammunition. He went back to Booker as the two divvied up the supplies.

"Well that was...something. Where'd you even come up with that?" Booker asked, doing a double check count of his ammo.

"The funny papers. I'm guessing you didn't get the joke?" Booker just shook his head. Of course someone from the early twentieth century wouldn't get a joke that wouldn't come about for sixty three years. "Oh well."

"Let's just get going."

They went towards the left side of the stage, up a flight of stairs and through a door into an office area. Scanning around to make sure no one was around, the only thing of notice was a radio broadcasting what had happened in the past hour. The two spotted an elevator and went inside, pressing the button. After a few seconds, they found themselves heading towards a door, the cawing of crows filling the air.

The two readied their weapons just in case.

"Do you wanna do the honors?" The teen asked the detective.

Feeling he had no other choice, Booker approached the door ahead of Dante and pried it open. The sound of screaming filled the air as a chained up man was ruthlessly murdered by crows.

Dante cringed at the sight. "Jesus."

"No kidding," the PI responded, wrenching the door open all the way. "Ladies first."

The teen shot him a look but didn't respond, instead slipping past him and cringing at the sight of the bloody corpse of the man right beside him. He moved away as quickly as he could, trying not to look back.

Booker didn't even flinch as he came through the door, hardened by years of being in the military. He glanced at Dante, raising an eyebrow before being dismissed by the hybrid and walking towards the open courtyard.

"It's a bit too quiet in here, isn't it…" Dante said, suddenly realizing that it was completely quiet for the first time he'd come here.

Booker nodded, not looking at him as he was too busy looking around for any sign of hidden enemies-but finding none. He frowned-so far in Columbia, quiet usually meant trouble…

He was soon proved right when Dante heard the sound of a murder of crows filling the air. He turned and saw a black hooded figure approaching, yelling, "Die in the name of the Prophet!"

"Booker-!" he began, but Booker was already way ahead of him, pulling out his machine gun and firing at the black figure as he dissipated into a murder of crows. The crow-man flew past Booker and Dante, reappearing behind them both and unleashing something (Dante suspected it was a new kind of Vigor) their way. Dante ducked as the crows flew by and around his head, trying in vain to swat them away with his hands. They disappeared after a moment, and Dante saw Booker look at something far off, equipping his Devil's Kiss vigor and lobbing it in that direction.

Just as the vigor hit the ground, the crow-man re-appeared only to be engulfed in flame. The two opened fire on the man as he attempted to put himself out. After a few seconds of gunfire, the crow-man had dropped dead. The two took a minute to catch their breaths as they checked the corpse, finding another vigor on him as well as some Salts. Dante picked it up and inspected it.

"Murder of Crows. Sounds pleasant." He mused with a hint of irony in his voice. Seeing as Booker got the last vigor, he figured that he'd take this one. Uncapping it, he swigged down the contents before tossing the bottle aside. Then the side effects kicked in.

His vision blurred for a second before he saw a crow land his hand with a piece of meat in its mouth. It was then his hands were covered in feathers and his nails became curved. Dante's vision cleared, his hand returning to normal, as he let out a sigh.

"You alright there, pal?" He heard, and turned to see Booker looking at him expectantly. Dante nodded after a moment, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

"Yeah, fine. That was...crazy," the teen muttered, still not quite believing it. It was one thing to see vigor's on a screen...but to see it in real life…it was freaking insane. His hand still hurt actually…

Booker was still eyeing him, but the teen waved a hand at him dismissively. "Really. I'm fine. Can we please get back to finding the girl?"

Just as he said that, more guards burst in as they opened fire on the two. Though they didn't get many shots off as the two shot off their Vigor's, Dante with Murder of Crows and Booker with Devil's Kiss. The combination of the two created a swirl of feathered fire that consumed the guards, killing them in just moments.

"Well, that was fun," Dante muttered, glancing at his much older partner and grimacing at the amount of blood on his clothes. He probably had the same amount on himself, though he really didn't want to check and see. "Shall we move on?"

Booker only grunted.

 _ **XxxxxX**_

The two made their way out of the building down a set of stairs where and airship was in wait.

"I guess that's our ticket out of here," Dante said, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Booker nod.

"Yeah. Only question is how do we get on it?"

"I…" For once, the hybrid was speechless. Ping

As soon as they got close to it, the mechanical pilot said, " _We're sorry to say that Monument Island is off limits. You've got to go! Workmen should proceed to the island by means of the sky-line."_

"Those things them coppers came riding on back by the lottery." Booker mused.

Dante looked at him before looking at his sky-hook. "Well...Geronimo."

Booker gave him an odd look then, but didn't say anything. He proceeded to jump up as his hook attached to the skyline as he zoomed forward.

"Hey wait!" The PI followed suit as he followed his partner's actions and accelerated forward on the skyline.

He caught up with Dante as said person dropped from it and aimed his hook at a guard on the platform below. The hit connected, sending the guard plummeting to the clouds below. Booker dropped as well and brandished his pistol, taking out a guard that was attempting to sideline his partner. They made their way to a building...where a squadron of soldiers were waiting for them.

Before either the two could dismount or the guards could open fire, a horn was heard on the PA and a voice boomed, " _ **Stand down!"**_

The soldiers immediately dropped their weapons and got on their knees and started praying.

Dismounting the skyline, Dante and Booker walked past the praying soldiers. They looked at each other with confused looks on their faces. Opening a door, they saw not only more guards praying, but also a screen with picture of Comstock's face on it. Walking up to the elevator the guards were in front of, the screen changed to a live recording of the Prophet as he spoke.

" _ **I know why you've come, False Shepard. I see every sin that blackens your soul. Wounded Knee. The Pinkertons. The drinking and the gambling. And of course, Anna. And now, to repay a debt, you've come for my lamb. But not all debts can be repaid, Booker."**_

"You don't know me pal!" Booker yelled.

"Same!" Dante added.

There was a look of confusion on the Prophet's face. " _ **Why do you follow this False Shepard, child? Don't you know he'll only lead you to ruin?"**_

"Does it look like I care?"

Comstock said nothing, turning his attention to Booker. " _ **Do you know why these men will die for me? It's because I've seen their future. Because I have seen their future in the glory, and they are content. What brought you two to Colombia? "Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt?" This will end in blood. But then again, it always does end with you doesn't it? It'll always end in blood."**_

Dante pulled the lever for elevator to ascend, but noticed that Booker's nose started to bleed. "You okay?" he asked, worried even though he knew the cause.

"Yeah...fine."

They got to the top as Comstock's voice kept going. " _ **You've come to lead my lamb astray, but thy crook is bent and thy path is twisted. Go back to the Sodom from whence you came!"**_ The screen that Comstock appeared on then floated away on a blimp.

Dante blinked. "Well that was dramatic."

"No shit."

They spotted a sign directing them to the rooftop and proceed forward until Comstock's voice boomed, " _ **Go back!"**_

Suddenly part of the building was blown away, as it revealed the blimp and a few more buildings in the distance.

"Holy shit!" They exclaimed.

The two saw a freight hook sticking out from the airship and got the same idea. Nodding at the other, Booker proceeded first as he jumped across and his skyhook attached to the freight hook. He then jumped down onto the deck as a follower of Comstock charged at him. Dante followed suit, landing on the deck to see Booker finishing the follower off by snapping the his neck with his skyhook.

"...You know, that thing wasn't designed for such brutal purposes," Dante commented offhandedly.

Booker looked at the Skyhook, then back at Dante with a blank expression. He shrugged. "Works for me."

Dante sighed. "Let's just get going, I don't want to wait around to see if more will show up-I'm not nearly as used to the killing as you are."

"With the amount of goons we've gone through, you've taken it in stride."

"True, but I take no pleasure in the act. I've fought in self defense and for something I've believed in but never for the thrill."

Booker looked at Dante oddly then, a strange expression crossing his face for a second before it cleared and he said, "Yeah. Let's just get this airship to Monument Island. Where're the controls?"

"I imagine they'd be in the control room."

"Right." Booker gave him a look. "And any idea where that might be?"

Dante looked around at that, peering into the large window into the interior. He hummed. "Doesn't look that big. I'd imagine it's behind that metal door over there. Shall we?"

Booker didn't respond, just pushed past Dante and headed for the inside.

The two went inside as they spotted a woman dressed in a white robe praying at a Comstock shrine that was in the corner of the room.

"We won't hurt you miss." Dante reassured but the woman just kept on praying. Dante found that odd, but didn't disturb her again.

Booker, meanwhile, went up to the controls and started fiddling with them until a horn was heard. He looked up as he saw Comstock standing on an airship behind a microphone stand.

" _ **The Lord forgives everything. But I'm just a Prophet...so I don't have to. Amen."**_

"Amen."

The two spun around as the woman had doused herself in gas and held up a torch which she dropped, igniting herself of and the ship on fire. Seeing as the blimp was about to go up, the two abandoned it as they jumped down towards a nearby skyline. Riding it to safety, the two disembarked it as they came upon the entrance dock towards Monument Island. Heading up the stairs and through the doors, the partners ventured forth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Well, there it is: Monument Island." Booker breathed out.

"This is where she is?" Dante knew the answer, but for the sake of appearances...

"Yeah. Though gotta wonder why they got her locked up in this place."

The inquisitioning wasn't invalid. Blocking their way was a gated up fence with chains and warning signs.

"Charming," Dante muttered, before preparing himself for what was about to come. Spotting a hook, he lept up as he swung off the hook and landed on the other side of the fence. "You coming?"

"Unfortunately," Booker sighed, following the young teen with an air of resignedness. He landed on his feet and started heading towards the entrance, not once pausing even as Dante sprinted after him.

"Do you think she's really here?" Dante asked once he'd caught up. A statue of an angel holding a scroll which said: _The Seed of the Prophet shall sit on the throne and drown in flames the mountains of man_. "I stand corrected."

"What? I wasn't listening." Ignoring the eyeroll he got from the young man, he drew his pistol. "Best be quiet, there might be people inside, an' we don't wanna alert them to our presence." Booker lowered his gun and slowed down, poking his head around a corner before nodding. "Alright, there's no one in the immediate area. We're good for now."

"For now." Dante repeated. The two passed some lockers and went around a statue replica of the tower. It was the immediate area past a pair of doors that when the teen said, "Well this looks...interesting."

"What is it?" Booker asked.

"It's...a growth chart." Dante explained, looking it over. Said chart had silhouettes of a girls growth. It spanned from age one, five, eleven and seventeen. It also included height along the left side and possibly average weight along the bottom. "All relating to the same female subject from infancy to adolescence. Very detailed and precise too." It was then a buzzing noise caught his attention. "Hello~what's this?" He walked past the chart to see a big glass box labeled Siphon Passive with two Tesla coils on each side of the room. Said box had three levers with Transpose 1, 2 and 3 labeled underneath them. Inside the box were three objects under glass cases with Tesla devices on top of them.

"Oh, hello hello hello! Look at this! They're using Tesla technology to harvest and harness electrical power! Strong too. Very powerful smell of ozone in the air, and metallic taste. Blech!" Dante said as he made a face. "Still, it's odd."

Booker looked at him with a strange look on his face. "Has anyone told you that you're an oddball?"

The teen glanced at him and pinched his fingers. "A little. But do you hear that?" He asked curiously.

DeWitt looked around. "All I hear is that infernal buzzing."

"Exactly. There's no chugging of generators, no mechanical sounds that would indicate a power station to supply this place. So where's all this power coming from if they're harvesting it?"

The older man thought for a second. Sure he wasn't too bright when it came to this science stuff, but he tried his best. "I don't know. But it's gotta be coming from somewhere." He then walked up to the levers, pulling the first one. The Tesla coils sparked to life as electricity channeled itself into one of the tubes as lightning dancing in the glass. As it hit what appeared to be a teddy bear that was inside it, the bear shifted from brown to a dark red.

Booker was slightly startled by this as he stepped back. Dante got closer and pulled out a pair of glasses. Examining it, he pulled the lever as it the lightning shifted the bear from red back to brown. He moved onto the next one, this time a poetry book inside. The process was repeated as the book shifted from a brown cover to a blue one. Swapping it back he got to the last one. It was labeled and had a sample of...menarche. "Fascinating. A little disgusting, but still fascinating nonetheless." Pulling the lever, the cloth became, once covered in blood, was now as clean the day it was made. Dante pulled it back, restoring it, and shoved his hand in his pockets. "C'mon then."

The two pressed on as they went through two doors to find another set a few feet in front of them and two rooms to both sides. Taking of his glasses and pocketing them, Dante went straight for the right side of the room, Booker following suit. A projector was on but with no film running. Flipping a switch on the side of it, Dante took a seat as the film began to play. Booker stood as the film went through footage of their target.

Dante and Booker both watched as the words: " **11/5/11 Lockpick Attempt No. 132** " appeared. It then cut to a young woman with black hair and a white dress being shown in the footage. She was at a vaulted door, attempting to lockpick it. It ended with her apparently giving up on the lock and walking away, a frown visible on her face. Sadly the film didn't show much of it, due to the angle and the lighting. It then showed: " **4/15/12 Specimen Investigating Codes** " and once again showed the girl. This time she was at a chalkboard; it took Dante a moment but he quickly realized that the scribbling on the board was code. She appeared to be deciphering one, and quite well, if he knew anything about codes (which he did). She finished with the cipher and stood back, cocking her head and admiring her work. Dante guessed that if the camera were facing her, she'd have a smile on her face. Once again the film cut, this time the words were: " **5/20/12 Specimen Painting**." The girl was back again, this time standing in front of a canvas with a beautifully painted Eiffel Tower on it. She held a paintbrush in between her delicate-looking fingers, and she gingerly stroked the canvas with it, no doubt putting on the finishing touches. The footage then cut to the words " **7/9/11 Specimen Singing** " showed. Again the girl was back, this time in a corner, surrounded by posters of singers and music stands. She swayed back and forth, possibly in sync to whatever she was singing.

"Real shame." Dante muttered out loud.

Booker turned his head. "What?"

"We can't hear her," Dante explained once he noted his partner's confused expression. "It'll be another fifteen years before talkies become a permanent staple in the film community." He turned to see Booker still giving him a confused look. "I read up on some of this stuff a while ago. I just gave a rough estimate of how long until sound would be implemented into film."

Booker just shook his head.

Their attention was drawn back to the footage as it cut to " **6/14/11 Specimen Dancing**." She was now waltzing around the room-in the same dress as before, oddly (did she only have one outfit?)-and the brief glimpse of her face the camera provided showed them she was smiling again. Dante wondered, briefly, if happiness was her only emotion. That and naïveté, her having lived in this tower for most of her life. The film reel ended, projecting nothing but the light that poured onto the screen.

"They've been watching her," Booker said, sounding affronted.

"Makes you wonder why they've kept her locked up these years. She seems pretty normal doesn't she?" Dante knew he wasn't supposed to give Booker any information as to how this whole thing was going to go down, but he couldn't help but give some things a little nudge.

"Yeah."

The two stood up from their seats and exited the room. Heading right, they walked into a large room that had a balcony with two sets of stairs heading to a second level. There were also wires leading to a giant Tesla coil in the middle and giant speakers around it. In front of it was a chalkboard with a spiked graph going up and down with the end of it spiking upwards. Covering over a bit of the chart, in big yellow lettering, was the words: **Facility Unsafe**.There was an odd humming sound, coming from-well, they had no idea. The longer Dante listened to it, however, the more...familiar it felt. Like he'd heard it (and strangely felt it) somewhere before….but where?

Said feeling passed as Booker and Dante walked through the cluster of large speakers to an elevator on the far side of the room. Booker took the liberty of pushing the button, and after a short ride the doors opened up to what appeared to be an observation room. Dante immediately knew where they were, but declined to mention the fact to his partner-after all, time shenanigans and whatnot. He moved to pull the lever that rested underneath the metal window.

The window opened, the room on the other side being from the second part of the footage they had watched earlier. Seeing as she wasn't there, they walked down the hallway that had an opening on the left end of it and what seemed to be a list of locations on the wall. Dante pressed the button that was on the side of it as it highlighted the Dressing Room.

"Guess that's where we need to go." Booker said.

Walking through the opening, they came to a corridor which they walked down till they reached the next door. It opened into another observation room which had a camera and a chair set up next to the window.

Dante chanced a glance at Booker, who wore a disturbed expression on his usually blank face. "What's wrong?" he asked his partner, who simply shook his head.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just..what's so special about this girl, huh? They've got her locked up, they're watching her, keepin' keepsakes of hers, the like. It don't add up that they'd do this for any ordinary girl."

Dante raised an eyebrow at this. Normally people like Booker wouldn't ask questions, they'd just do the job. Probably something different with this one. "Who knows? Though from what we've seen of the city so far, they praise her like the second coming of Christ. I keep hearing ramblings of "the seed of the prophet shall sit the throne" and whatnot. I don't know, maybe they're grooming her to take over when he's gone. Just a wild guess."

Booker seemed to accept this explanation. He nodded once, and noticing the lever underneath the window, pulled it.

The metal sides parted to reveal another room-but this time, the girl was there. Dante could only see one side of her face, but as she turned around, he managed to whisper one word.

"Beautiful."

And she was. Getting a full look at her, she was probably one of the most beautiful girls Dante had ever seen in all his travels. It looked like she was staring at them, till it dawned on the two that she couldn't see them.

She appeared to be checking her appearance in the mirror, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and pouting her lips as she turned her head this way and that. Dante couldn't see much of the room beyond what the "mirror" reflected back, but he did notice a Paris postcard on the vanity. She suddenly stopped and looked down at the postcard, picking it up and holding it close to her chest as she grinned at them.

The teen could only grin while the ex Pinkerton only watched.

She gasped suddenly, causing the two to flinch even though they couldn't hear her. She dropped the postcard and examined her finger, looking at it curiously. _Papercut,_ the two men unconsciously thought, and winced. After a moment, she seemed to forget about it, examining her reflection once more before turning and dashing out of the room.

Booker and Dante looked at each other before the former said, "Let's find a way to get inside."

"Agreed." Dante said as the two continued down the hall. They looked at the wall tracker as Dining Room was illuminated. "She's there."

Continuing down the corridor, the two could already hear activity in the next room, the sounds of the girl moving around and a muffled voice speaking catching Dante's attention.

They moved into the next observation area, where they saw a beautifully painted portrait of the Eiffel Tower looming over the Seine. The girl came into the room a second later, going to the portrait and admiring it for a moment before bringing her hands up, pushing them apart, as a loud ripping sound was heard and a flash of light followed. The partners covered their eyes as the flash blinded them. Blinking the spots out of their eyes as they refocused on the scene, they noticed that the painting was gone, replaced by what looked to be a Parisian street next to a theater playing "Revenge of the Jedi".

The girl looked absolutely thrilled at the sudden change in scenery, and began walking into the street. But a loud siren was heard and the girl jumped back as a firetruck came speeding down the street. The two men jumped back as well, prepared to bolt if necessary. The girl stepped back into the room and quickly closed the rift, looking terrified. The moment passed, and the girl stood looking forlorn as she turned and ran out of the room.

Dante, looking more amazed than bewildered, turned to Booker who was absolutely dumbfounded.

"What...the hell..?" Booker asked

"Ditto."

"What was that?"

"I have no clue." Dante lied. He knew exactly what it was, but didn't want to tell Booker everything yet. "It was insanely weird, though…"

"Weird doesn't cover it." The PI sighed, scratching his chin. "Sooner we get the girl to New York the better."

Dante simply nodded, not wanting to keep conversation.

They kept walking down the corridor till they came across another window. Unlike the others, this one was rather large and didn't seem to show a small enclosed room. Instead it showed a large library area with a balcony on the other side. It just so happened that Elizabeth was on said balcony, humming to herself as she looked out longingly at the world.

Dante felt sympathy for her-but soon she'd be out, he knew.

They made their way to another hatch and opened it, only to find themselves outside. Despite the weather being decent, the wind was almost unbearably cold, and Dante shivered as he waited for Booker to close the hatch. The two made their way carefully up the side of the statue. Making their way to the next hatch, they saw a platform supported by chains with a hallway on the next side. Dante took the first step, and then another, before the chains snapped. He plummeted down the ground but managed to catch a wooden railing.

...and came face to face with Elizabeth.

He wasn't quite sure what he expected her to do—maybe gasp, look shocked, something like that. Scream?

Scream seemed to be the way to go, because she shrieked and threw the book she was holding straight at his face. He felt it as it connected with his face and let go of the railing and landed right on his back.

Well, okay. _That_ he hasn't been expecting.

Dante stared up to see her angry face peering down at him. He barely had time to think, _Uh oh,_ before she was chucking another heavy volume at his head. He managed to dodge this one, and it thumped on the floor behind him.

"Hey—hey wait— _stop_!" He tried to yell, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Get away!" She yelled back, raising another book to use as a projectile.

"I'm not—" he tried to say, but Booker stepped in at that exact moment, having managed to jump down.

"Hey now, wait a sec! We're here to help you, miss, there's no need to be frightened. Name's Dewitt and he's Price. We're not going to hurt you," he explained. This seemed to calm her down, as she lowered the book—however, her stance remained defensive. Dante really couldn't blame her.

"Why?" The only question that mattered, he supposed—why would these random strangers whom she'd never met and to her knowledge didn't even know her suddenly show up and claim to want to help? He thought ever so briefly about telling her the truth—but he ultimately decided against it...for now, at least.

"Well—it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that—"

"Wait." The girl came down the staircase and paused in front of Dante. She peered curiously at him, before reaching for his face. "Are you real?"

Dante gingerly touched her hand. "I'm real enough. So is he for that matter." He pointed at Booker. The moment was interrupted by a strange whistling tune from a nearby golden statue of Comstock. Whatever its meaning, Elizabeth was terrified by it.

"Oh, no," she breathes, hurrying to push the two out of the way of the fallen ceiling. "You have to go, you have to go!"

"What? Why?"

"Just—he's coming, he'll find you. Go!" She looked up at the opening and said, "JUST A MINUTE. I'M GETTING DRESSED!

"We can get you out of here." Booker offered, digging into his pocket

Elizabeth scoffed. "How? There's no way out, I've looked." A shriek was heard as she looked up again. "STOP IT! YOU'RE TOO IMPATIENT. THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"What about this?" The PI pulled out a key that had a bird on one side and a cage on the other.

"What about it?"

"It's the way out isn't it?" Dante pointed out.

"What're you-?" She took one look at the key before snatching it from Booker's hand. Examining it, she then looked at the vaulted door on the other side of the room. Elizabeth walked over to it before inserting the key into a slot. A whirring noise was heard as the latches unlocked and the door swung open.

Elizabeth's eyes widened in disbelief and hope as she grinned suddenly. "It...it opened. It opened. It's the way out! Come on!" She cried happily, rushing out through the door. The two had no choice but to follow her as the shrieking got louder and closer. They followed suit, but as they did, the tower was shaking and rocking, being hit from the outside. Fastening up their pass, they caught up with Elizabeth.

"What the hell is that?!" Booker asked, ducking to avoid falling plywood.

"It's his job to keep me locked up in here!"

"We'll see about that!" Dante replied, having just missed falling debris.

"You seem very confident in that regard," she replied shortly, out of breath from running.

"Let's just say I've seen a lot of interesting things."

Before she could reply, the tower shook to the point the three stumbled to the floor. Three claws then penetrated the inside of the tower and cut across, leaving a gash that showered in natural light into the tower.

Booker picked himself up before helping the other two. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"Let's not find out." Dante replied, noting that Elizabeth had gone ahead. "Call the elevator!"

Booker surged forward, making his way to the elevator and slamming his fist into the elevator button. All three waited with anticipation as they heard the elevator crawling up to their level. It was then Elizabeth noticed the window that peaked into her bedroom. Her eyes widened at the implication as she staggered back, clearly shocked.

"What is all this? They were watching me? All this time...Why? Why did they put me in here? What am I? What am I?"

"You're the girl who's getting out of this tower," Booker stated firmly.

Suddenly, a giant claw punched through the elevator door, making them stumble back. A single bright giant eye glared at them through the opening. It reared its head and slammed it into the wall, grabbing at the side as it struggled to get in. But then a sharp ding was heard, the creature looked up to see the elevator come down on top of it. With the mechanoid gone, the three made their way to the other side using a girder that wedged itself between the elevator door and the other side. The structure rocked violently as they made their way up the stairs.

"He's tearing the building apart!"

"Be careful Elizabeth." Booker warned, picking up his pace.

"How do you know my name?"

"Now's not a good time."

Instead of dignifying that with a response, Elizabeth simply nodded and continued heading up the stairs, sometimes skipping two or three at a time. She reached the highest level first, and turned a corner, disappearing from view. Dante had a brief moment of panic before he heard Elizabeth shout, "There's a door up here, but I can't get it open. Help me!"

They caught up with her as she was tugging at a hatch that led to outside. She stepped aside as the two turned the wheel and pushed it open, slightly enough for Elizabeth to slip through. They followed suit as they continued to ascend the balcony.

"Which way?!"

"Up!"

On their way up, they caught glances of a the creature as it circled the structure. They got up to the top, desperately searching for a way out, and then their whole world turned upside down. Literally. Dante scrambled to grab ahold of something as he fell through the air, but to no avail. From the sounds of it, even though he couldn't see them, Elizabeth and Booker were having no such luck either. He attempted to stabilize his freefall, diving over to the others. It was then he noticed a single detail: Booker was too far away to grab Elizabeth. Dante tried as hard as he could to get to her side, and just as Elizabeth was about to fall to her demise, he grabbed her forearm. With his other arm, he pulled out his skyhook and latched onto the skyway. Booker followed suit as the two zipped through, the mechanical bird following suit. Pulling her up, Dante hand one hand around her waist as she held onto the side of his neck.

"Hold on!"

The giant bird swooped down at them, missing them but demolished a passing by sky ship. The trio found that the rail had made them make a u-turn towards the now crumbling structure. A good chunk of said statue crashed through the bridge below... as well as part of the skyway.

As soon as the skyway abruptly ended, the three found themselves in free fall once again. Elizabeth reached out towards Dante, the two's fingers touching for a moment, before they tumbled into the water below.

Both the detective and hybrid look up at the surface before massive hands grabbed them in a vice grip. This knocked the air out of two, but before it could finish them off, it let go of Dante to grab its side. Then one of its eyes cracked, possibly due to the water pressure. The Songbird finally relented, casting one last glance at the duo before returning to the air. Dante would have sighed in relief, but at the last minute remembered that he was currently submerged in an artificial ocean. Booker on the other hand had passed out. Sighing in resignation, Dante grabbed both him and Elizabeth, who was barely conscious, picked a direction, and started to swim.

'What a day.' He thought to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Booker groaned, opening his eyes and immediately shutting them as a bright light shone in his face. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the beginnings of a migraine when he heard two familiar voices talking overhead.

"You sure he'll be alright?" the first one asked-Booker recognized it as the boy, the one who had been accompanying him.

"Yes, I think he'll be fine. He took quite a hit though. He's probably got a headache...my books say that some fresh water and food will usually help. Do you think you could-oh, he's awake. Hi, mister." The second voice was decidedly more feminine, and Booker sat up with a jolt as he remembered. The girl. New York. He had a job to complete.

"Take it easy, you nearly drowned. Be thankful Elizabeth knew what she was doing considering...never mind."

"A...Anna?" Booker managed to croak out.

The hybrid shook his head. "'Fraid not. Just me and Elizabeth."

Said girl was checking the older gentleman before her head perked up. "Do you hear that? It's music!"

The ex Pinkerton waved his hand weakly. "Go on...I just...just need to…"

"Okay, I won't be long. I won't be long, Mr. DeWitt." Elizabeth nodded as he went towards the source of the music.

Dante kneeled right next to his partner as he said weakly, "Follow her." And like that, he passed out, his head hitting the sand. The teen did as he asked as her trailed Elizabeth's path, said girl looking around in awe and wonder. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, as she began to point out things that she'd read about and mutter to herself about how certain things worked. It was like seeing a kid's first time at the beach. Only this kid should have seen all of this long ago...the thought sombered him a bit, but he quickly shook it off. Elizabeth was running ahead, and he was about to lose sight of her. He found her standing and clapping along to the music playing on the bandstand, people dancing to the beat.

Although he didn't want to interrupt her fun, he knew that they had to get going. "Elizabeth." He said, getting her attention

She turned around, a look of joy beaming from her face. "Hello! Oh, this is wonderful! Oh, come dance with me." She held out her hands, waiting impatiently for him to take them.

"Well...oh what the heck. You only live once right?" Dante took her hands as the two began dancing.

That's how Booker found them around ten minutes later, surrounded by dancing couples and having the time of their lives as though nothing else mattered.

"Hey! Could you two just- Hey, I need you to stop! Please stop. Alright...c'mon. Hey, Dante! Elizabeth!" Booker raised his voice, catching their attention as they stopped what they were doing.

"Hello! Oh, this is wonderful! Oh, come dance with us!"

"I don't dance. C'mon, let's go." Booker raised a hand expectantly.

"Why? What could be better than this?" She questioned, spinning in circle

Booker sighed, knowing what he would have to do. He smiled, a little forced. "Well...how 'bout Paris?"

She stopped dancing immediately, turning to face him with her eyes wide and a huge smile on her young face. "Paris? I...don't understand. How can we get there?"

"Well, it's where that airship's goin'." Dante pointed out and towards said ship, giving Booker a wink.

"But if you want to stay and dance, we could-" Booker began before being cut off.

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. "No, let's go! C'mon, let's go! C'mon, let's go right now!" she yelled, grabbing Dante's handing and racing off the pier.

They continued onward past some vendors and beachgoers, some of whom gave them odd looks and others who waved cheerily.

"I'm out." Elizabeth breathed out. "It's hard to believe but it's true, isn't it?" She took a deep breath of air. "Oh, can you smell that? I've never smelled anything like that before, have you?"

"Beaches I know don't smell much like that." Booker said flatly.

"We should know. I'm from New York and most beaches smell like dead fish and lord knows what else." Dante added, which gained a raised eyebrow from the girl. "What? It does. Then again it's a major metropolitan city so you can't expect everything to be perfect." That earned a "suppose so" nod from her.

Entering a station, they stop as Elizabeth sees a poster of Father Comstock.

"Comstock. I've read about him. They say he can see the future." Elizabeth noted.

Booker quoted. "Give a man a little power, he falls in all kinds of love with himself."

"Amen." Dante answered.

Elizabeth shifts uncomfortably on her feet, looking down ever-so-slightly. "I don't like his look," she murmurs.

"Do you dislike the look of the Prophet? Or his gaze?" The vendor asked, sounding and looking near insulted by her comment.

This could land them into trouble, Dante realized, so he quickly made up a story. He said, "No no. The wonderful lady here just meant that the nose looks a little off."

The vendor paled before looking over the picture. Turning to Dante he said, "Thank you for pointing this flaw out. I'll have to order some new ones."

Dante just patted the man on the back. "No problem." As soon as the man was out of sight, the hybrid just turned his back and snickered a bit. "They really worship him, huh. Figures that a little detail like that would set them off."

"Thank you." Elizabeth said, sighing in relief. "I should really be more careful…"

They continued up a flight of stairs before Booker let out a slight hiss of pain. Dante went over to him and looked him over. "Looks like you're a little bruised is all." He diagnosed.

"That fall into the water did you no favors. I'll keep an eye out for something that might ease your pain." Elizabeth said, looking him over as well. Booker nodded, albeit a tad annoyed that two kids were basically nursing him.

"Thanks."

They continued on their way, Elizabeth marveling at being let out of her tower for the first time. She continued her mutterings and occasional factoids before stopping suddenly, gasping, and running ahead.

They reached another boardwalk, this one having vendors that were selling jewelry and other odds and ends.

"Mr. DeWitt, Mr. Price, here! Come look at these!" She called to the two who walked up and…

"Oh great." Booker sighed. "These two again. How do-...never mind."

"They either work in mysterious ways," Dante exaggerated by waving his hands. "Or they're just convenient."

Lo and behold, Robert and Rosalind Lutece stood at the end of the boardwalk, looking as professional and stoic as ever. Each had one hand behind their back, and in the other hand sat a jewelry box, both containing a brooch inside.

"Bird?" Robert asked.

"Or the cage?" Rosalind asked.

"Or perhaps the bird?" Robert interjected.

"Nothing beats the cage." Rosalind countered, eyeing her counterpart with something around the lines of a dare.

Elizabeth looked at the brooches and held them up to the two gentlemen. "Look at these, they're amazing! Which one do you like more? This one...or this? The bird is beautiful, and the cage is somber, but there's really something special about it. I just can't decide."

Dante could tell that Booker could care less, and just wanted her to choose so that they could move on. So he decided to take matters into his own hands. "Elizabeth, I'm sure both would look lovely on you. Can't you take both?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to be rude by doing that. One's enough for me. I'm thinking the bird…?"

"The bird's fine," Booker chimed in, eager to get this over with.

Elizabeth picked up the broach, inspecting it closely. "Are you sure?"

"We're sure." Dante said, nudging Booker with his elbow. "Aren't we?"

"Yeah."

Elizabeth placed the brooch on her choker, looking it over. "I love it!"

"Surprising. I expected the cage." Rosalind said.

"If you're going to be a sore loser, then I shan't do this again." Robert responded.

"Now that's just sophistry." Rosalind retorted.

The three started to walk forward, till Dante stopped and said, "You two go on ahead. I'll see if any of these vendors are selling anything useful."

"Ok, don't be long." Elizabeth responded with Booker giving him nod.

It wasn't till they were out of earshot distance that Dante walked over to the twins.

"So where'd you park it?" He asked.

"Don't fret, your blue box is perfectly safe." Rosalind replied, keeping her prim and proper posture.

"Ok that's good." Dante grinded his heal on the ground. "I need a small favor."

"Favor? For what?" Robert asked.

"Or for when." Rosalind added.

Dante rubbed the back of his neck. "Well when we get to the airship, there's going to be some...drama."

The twins just nodded.

"So I need this," he pulled out the slip of paper he received earlier. "To be changed."

Robert took the piece of paper and examined it. "I see."

"I suppose you want it giving new directions and coordinates headed towards Paris, correct?" Rosalind asked.

Dante nodded. He knew they were just as likely to say no as to give in to his request, but he still needed to know. "Think you can do it?"

Rosalind scoffed, taking the paper from Robert and taking out a pen. "Naturally. I don't see why not...but do you honestly think that your other companion will fall for it?"

The younger man bit the bottom of his lip. "Not sure. I'm hopeful he does since he's under contract from you two. Or thinks he is at least."

"Very well," she said, handing the piece of paper back to Dante.

"Thanks."

It was then a collection of shocked gasps, yells and a couple screams drew his attention. He turned around to see that a group of clouds had passed, showing the wrecked tower. Turning back, he saw the twins had disappeared. That quickly became the least of his worries, however. The surrounding people's screams of shock and terror soon morphed into actual words.

"Oh lord, look at that, Henry! I told you something bad would happen today!"

"Where's a Handyman when you need one?"

"How could the Songbird have let this happen?"

'Now's our chance.' thought Dante, elbowing his way past the gathered crowd in search of his two companions. He found them standing by the railing, Booker's hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as she gazed forlornly at the shattered structure.

"You alright?" he heard him ask her.

The girl shrugged. "It was my home," she murmured. She then caught sight of Dante. "Come on, let's go."

The three walked over towards the arcade nearby, away from the commotion the crowd was causing and hoping that they would be able to slip past unnoticed. No such luck, however, as they soon see it has an active police checkpoint.

"Make sure you have a piece of photographic identification ready for presentation," one of the police announced as others were frisking civilians.

"Put those arms up now! Fingers apart. Legs apart. Stand still! Now hold steady."

"Well, we ain't gettin' through there." Booker stated, groaning.

"Now what?" wondered Dante.

Elizabeth's eyes roamed the small area until they landed on a locked door. She grinned. "I have just the thing. Come on."

She lead them to a door out of the cops' eyesight.

"Ahh, damn thing's locked." Booker complained.

She took out a bobby pin and began fiddling with the tumblers.

"What are you doing?"

"You're a roguish type, what does it look like?" She took a look at Dante. "Not you though, you seem more civilized." There was a click as she managed to get the door open. "Done!"

Booker stared, amazed as though he'd never seen anything like it. "Where did you learn to pick locks?"he wondered aloud.

"Trapped in a tower with nothing but books and spare time? You would be surprised what I know how to do."

They entered a backroom where a black worker was cleaning up the floor.

"I must take any task with more than the slightest complexity - or they simply leave it in ruins for me to clean up later…" He then noticed Booker and Dante. "Oh! Ah...h'lo, suhs. Doan you pay me no nevahmind. Jus' some foolish-ness, y'know...haha...jus' monkeyshines."

Dante, kneeling down, dug through his pockets and pulled out a wallet full of silver eagles. "Here, take it."

The worker looked at the teen; to his eyes, simply another white man. "I'm sorry sir, but are you sure?"

"Sure, take it. It should be enough to cover some of your wages." Dante said, stretching the bag out.

Booker stared, eyes wide with shock before setting his mouth in a firm line. Elizabeth looked rather pleased at this display of humanity.

The worker took the bag, cradling it, looking from it and the teen. "Thank you, thank you sir!" He got up and walked the way the three came in.

"Why did you just give up a whole bag? We could have used that," Booker commented. It did not sound as though he entirely disapproved however.

"No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted." Dante replied, repeating the old saying reverently.

"Aesop." Elizabeth spoke, gaining the attention of the two. "That was a quote from Aesop. Anyway, I found more silver eagles." She gave the handful she scooped up to Dante who pocketed them. "...there's a vending device over there...there might be something to help bring you back to strength."

Booker nodded, ignoring whatever was going on between them. "It's probably a good idea. Let's go."

They kept walking through the hallway before the two men spotted two familiar faces.

"Hey...hey mister...we'd like to help you." The "bride" spoke up.

"Do I know you?" Booker asked, which caused Dante to gib slap him upside the head.

"These are the two that you helped escape from the lottery." He pointed out

"Back at the lottery," The "groom" started, "you...without you, we wouldn't have gotten away."

"Daisy always said someone like you would come along." The "bride" added. She then reached behind her and pulled out a pouch of silver eagles. "Here, take it."

Dante held his hand up. "No. You two need it more than we do. Try to get somewhere that isn't here, just in case things get worse."

The couple nodded, their thanks obvious by the way they smiled at the three. "Thank you all," they said. "We won't forget this."

Dante and Elizabeth smiled back; Booker just grunted. They moved past the couple and entered the arcade beyond.

Elizabeth was immediately entranced by all of the new sights and sounds. "What's that?" she asked excitedly, pointing to a vendor selling cotton candy.

"Hey, here you go, little miss and mister." The vendor gave Elizabeth and Dante each a cone of cotton candy. "Cotton candy, here! Get your cotton candy!" Dante eating started his while Elizabeth tried a small bit before putting a hand to her cheek.

"Mmmm. Mmmm! This is amazing. How have I never tried this? ...I can't believe how much I've missed."

After finishing their sugary treats, the three continued onward, coming across the restrooms.

"Why is one bathroom for colors and one for whites?" Elizabeth asked.

"It just is." Booker answered bluntly.

"Seems like an unnecessary complication."

"It's more than that, I mean…" Dante motioned at himself.

The trio stopped as Booker took the time to take a good look at his partner. "That.. is odd. No one's said a word about your color, kid. What's up with that?"

The young man rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's say our employers helped me get past that. I won't say how, at least not yet, but I will. Just not here."

Booker narrowed his eyes at the man, and for a moment Dante was sure that he was in serious trouble. But after a moment or two he nodded. "Alright then."

 _ **XxxxxX**_

They continued walking around, Elizabeth taking in the sights as well as playing a few of the arcades. After all the fun and games, the trio headed toward the gondola station, ending up near the turnstiles.

"Hey! Flawless Flintlock." Elizabeth took a closer look at another arcade, examining it thoroughly. "The newest one in the series. I read it was delayed THREE TIMES."

Dante snorted. He knew how that felt, his former life of a normal human, seeing movies or games being delayed or outright canceled. Constants and variables indeed.

"Annabelle?" A woman's voice gained the three's attention.

"Excuse me?"

"Annabelle, it's me Esther!" The woman smiled, coming towards the three and stretching her arms out in greeting.

Elizabeth stepped back, clearly startled. "Oh, no, I'm not Annabelle," she chuckled nervously.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked, squinting.

"My name is Elizabeth. Do I know you?"

"Elizabeth? Isn't that a lovely name…" Esther murmured, turning back around and heading through the turnstiles.

Dante basically spoke the thoughts on their minds. "That was odd."

The three proceed to also go through the turnstiles.

"Last customer, park's closing. Park's closing, everyone!" An officer called out.

They went upstairs to the ticket offices, seeing that the clerk was on a phone.

Scanning the area, Dante noted something was...off. The conversations some of the people were having was stilted, jerky and for lake of a better word, fake. Walking into the lobby, he saw that out of the twelve people in the room, four of them were acting conspicuous. That included a man on top of a work plank, a peanut vendor, a violinist, a man next to him and the woman Ester. It was obviously an ambush, not helped that he caught the clerk turned away and softly speaking vaguely into the phone.

"I don't know...suspect he's carrying something...he's with her. Sure, we can get both apples with a single pick," the clerk murmured into the phone in low tones. Booker didn't look like he liked this, a thin frown appearing on his lips as he assessed the situation.

"Hey," he tried, but when he got no response, he tried again, this time more forcefully. "Hey! Excuse me!"

The clerk ignored him.

"Excuse me." Dante tried his hand and rung the bell. "Three tickets for passage to the First Lady airship."

"Yeah, just a minute, friend." He turned back to the phone. "Yeah, I have it. How do you want to proceed?"

"In a bit of a rush, pal," Booker snapped, growing impatient.

"Hey, mister, you're gonna get mustard all over your nice suit!" Elizabeth, possibly trying to help a patron somewhere behind them, was unaware of the impending danger.

"Mmmm-hmmm. I got it. I'll ring you back once the matter's in hand." The clerk spoke over the phone.

"I don't like this." Booker mumbled.

"Just be ready for anything." Dante whispered.

The clerk, again, refused to acknowledge the pair, instead muttering into the phone, "Send in the bird, we're ready to execute."

"Excuse us, can we get some help here?" Dante spoke up, leaving his hand on the counter intentionally. 'This is gonna hurt like hell.' He thought, wincing internally.

"Certainly, sirs, sorry about the wait!" The clerk said with fake cheer, right before he plunged a knife into Dante's unsuspecting hand.

Several things then happened at once. The doors going in and out of the office were blocked off by gates. Booker jumped back in surprise as Dante tried not to scream. Elizabeth, who had been heading back to them after having done her share of exploring, stopped and screamed as she noticed what was going on. Her scream was cut short by someone clamping a hand over her mouth and dragging her backwards.

"What are you doing?!" She screamed, wrestling the hand away from her mouth and kicking furiously.

"Get the girl!" The woman from before, Esther, shouted, ignoring Elizabeth's protests.

"Gah! Get off me!" She proceeded to gut check her assailant and then kick him square in the family jewels.

Booker pulled out his pistol and started shooting at the assailants. He got two in a row, both shot right between the eyes, and went for a third. This one however ducked and ran to crouch behind a counter at the far side of the room, shielding himself from Booker's sights.

Having ignored the burning pain, Dante pulled the knife from his hand. He then threw it square into the forehead of Esther.

Though Elizabeth was now free, she did not seem to appreciate the fact. She stared horrified, first at the woman whose face had a knife sticking out of it, then at Dante. She takes one, two steps back, then turns and bolts away from him.

"Get away from me! Let me out! I want out of here now!"

Dante shot at the last assailant before shouting, "Elizabeth!"

"Stay away from me!"

She slipped through the bars, fleeing ahead. She obviously had no intentions of being a part of whatever this was.

Booker tried calling after her. "Elizabeth!" He was shouting in vain. She was already gone, and she had no intention of ever coming back.

Flood lights came on as the sound of more police were approaching. The two scrambled, scrounging ammo off the corpses. It wasn't until Dante came across the downed violinist, he checked the case and saw it had a shotgun in it. He spotted a second case that had one as well as a box of ammo in each.

"Booker, catch!" Dante grabbed one of them(plus the ammo) and threw it towards him.

"Thanks!"

As soon as Booker grabbed it, a few cops came through the gated doorway, brandishing guns and shouting thing arhat your typical devout psycho would say. The two made quick work of them and set off to find Elizabeth, dropping their now empty weapons, but kept their pistols.

"Where is she? Ahh, great." Booker thought out loud.

It took a minute or two, but the two tracked her through the station to the gondola platform. Dante was quicker than Booker, being significantly younger and lighter on his feet due to not really having any gear, so he caught up to the young lass first. He made a grab at her, and caught her skirt, which caused Elizabeth to turn around, kick him, and stumble backwards all at once.

"Just stay where you are!" Booker, seeing the situation, called to Dante. Like he wasn't ready going to do that.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, still trying to evade Dante's grasp. He lunged at her again, determined to do whatever it took to get her to come with them, but she quickly dodged and aimed another kick at his leg. Thankfully, she missed. Those heels really hurt.

Just as Booker was about to catch up with them, she finally got free of Dante and rushed into the gondola, frantically trying to pull down the lever that worked it. Booker and Dante followed suit a few seconds later, Elizabeth backing away from the lever, knowing that she had been defeated. She turned her back on the two as Booker pulled the lever, causing the gondola to go into motion.

A few moments later, she spoke, contempt and disbelief in her voice. "You killed those people. I can't believe you two did that...they're all dead... You killed those people!" She turned fierce blue eyes on them then, her gaze tearing into them as ferociously as any lecture.

"Elizabeth, I-", Dante started, but was shoved away.

"You're monsters!" she spat, crossing her arms in defiance and turning away slightly.

Dante opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. He had nothing to say to defend himself. Throughout his long life, he's been apart of battles and wars that always ended in bloodshed. And he took part in it. Sure, at first he tried his best to not kill anyone, but if push to came to shove, he had to defend himself. Saying nothing, he looked at Booker and gave him motion to speak. Hopefully it'd turn Elizabeth's anger into acceptance.

"What did you think was gonna happen? Hmmm?" He spoke, a strict tone lining his voice as he looked at the young girl he had been sent to retrieve. Despite his experience in the field he flinched slightly when he heard the tone. He recognized it and had heard it far too often. Booker was done playing games, that much was for certain.

"What?"

"Do you understand the expense people went through to keep you locked up in that tower? You think people like that are just gonna let you walk away? You are an investment...and you will not be safe until you are far away from here."

The change was almost immediate. Elizabeth's eyes changed from defiant and resentful to fearful, and the resentment in her eyes and voice lessened a little. "What do...what do they want from me?"

"I don't know." Booker said truthfully. If Dante didn't know better he would have said that there was a note of regret and worry in the old man's tone.

"I'll say this much," Dante chipped in, hissing slightly as he flexed his still bleeding hand. "That'll be the last time anyone gets the drop on me."

"L-let me see your hand."

She tore off a bit of her skirt, struggling with the durable fabric for a bit before it gave way and she smirked in triumph. She quickly wiped Dante's bloodied hand and wrapped it thrice around before tying it into a secure knot.

"What happened back there, that...that's not the last of it, is it?"

"I don't know."

The gondola stopped as it reached its destination and the trio walked out. They began heading through the deserted platform when Elizabeth said, "I suppose I best get used to it. You know, I've read a thing or two about medicine. I'll do my best to keep you supplied with remedies...and if your wounds are deeper, I'll try to keep you two on this side of the abyss."

Dante nodded. "That would be appreciated, ma'am. Thanks."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. "Just call me Elizabeth, Mr. Price."

"Dante. Just call me Dante."

Elizabeth startled. "Oh. Dante...like Dante Alighieri? That's a classic name, it's nice."

"Thanks."

Booker coughed a few feet ahead of them, fully aware of what was going on between the two. "Uh, excuse me? Shouldn't we be going?"

Dante snapped out of his thoughts. "Right, right. Allons-y!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

They stepped through the turnstile, entering into a lobby area that had models of Colombia's creation on either side and an animatronic display in the middle.

Elizabeth read aloud the engraving of one of the plaques that were under the model. "Soldier's Field, built in 1903 by the hand of our Prophet." She raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't comment any further.

"What interest does a prophet have in a bunch of carnies and carousels?" Booker questioned, raising an eyebrow himself.

"The place is themed to acquaint children with national service."

"You mean the military."

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old he will not depart from it." Elizabeth quoted, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Huh, did you write that?"

"No."

"She's right. That's from Proverbs chapter twenty two, verse six." Dante chipped in. "Honestly if someone believes that, but had a bad upbringing, they should try breaking that cycle and teach their kid better." He shook his head before noticing the other two giving him an inquisitive look. "Let's just say my father and step father brought me up on stronger morals. But enough of my ranting, let's continue forward."

They proceeded toward the gate nearby, and are about to enter, when suddenly its power source shorts out, letting the previously raised gate shut down with a loud clap.

Elizabeth sighed, crossing her arms in annoyance. "The gate's shut up tight. Now how are we going to get to the airship?"

"Let me see if we can get it open by hand," Dante suggested helpfully.

He and Booker proceed to each grab the bottom of the shutter and lift it. After Elizabeth crossed under, Dante followed suit and Booker last, setting the shutter down.

"Shock Jockey. Who needs the power company?" Elizabeth quoted, pointing at the looming poster in front of them that depicted a cartoon man riding a lightning bolt like a horse.

"Some fool's alternative to electricity," Booker muttered, unpleased with how things were turning out so far.

Dante knew about the vigor and took a moment to think about it. Electricity being shot through someone's hand. Reminding him of a certain movie. He snickered for a good few seconds, again drawing his companions attention. "Sorry, thought of a joke. But yeah, it doesn't seem to work very well."

They continued on their way, pausing only when a massive airship flew overhead.

"There it is, the First Lady. Looks like it's heading for the dock."

"And that will take us to Paris?" Elizabeth asked, hope briming from her tone of voice.

"Pretty much." Dante confirmed, slightly looking over at Booker who briefly showed regret.

"Just stay close."

"Yes, Mr. DeWitt."

"Call me Booker."

"Oh, a-alright. Booker. Should we head to the gondola, or take a look around the boardwalk? I suppose a place like this might have much we'd find useful."

They made their way to the bustling liveliness of the boardwalk near the entrance to the Hall of Heroes. It was late at night, possibly around eight or nine-thirty, but that did nothing to quell the eagerness of the residents or their excitement-indeed, anyone who has ever lived in a large metropolitan area can tell you that there is no such thing as night time for these types of folks. Ask a city dweller and they might tell you that folks such as the ones who populated the boardwalk on this very night are like vampires. The lower the sun gets in the sky, the more that come out to enjoy the nightlife. There's just something particularly magical about eating your ice cream while watching the night sky, or stealing kissing in the shadows behind the stores that stayed open as long as their customers were awake. It was all very romantic, in a way.

Fairy lights were strung up all around-indeed there seemed a string of them on every store threshold, every railing, and every cart canopy, all across the space. Their tiny light bulbs seemed unusually bright as they poured their essence into the night, dancing and twinkling as they played across every surface they could reach. Elizabeth seemed the only one of their group particularly affected by their beauty-despite the recent horrors she had been exposed to in the past few hours, her childlike innocence and naivety showed on her face as she took in the lights and the night time activities which others partook in.

Some of the stores were getting ready to close, Dante could see that-already customers were pouring out of a nearby souvenir shop, small children holding onto their parents with one hand and holding a toy or a book in the other. The lights inside went out not long after as the gate shut, cutting off access to that particular establishment until the morning. The would not be here to see it, he knew-they had better things to worry about, but he still caught the brief look of disappointment that flashed across Elizabeth's face when he looked at her.

"Cheer up," he said, trying to console her. "There are plenty of other places around here that aren't closed yet."

Elizabeth turned to him, surprised, but then nodded. "Yeah. I guess so. Hey, Booker, there's a shop over there. Can we go?"

Booker was about to protest when Dante caught his eye. The younger man gave him a look that said, 'C'mon, let her live a little.'

Booker sighed. "Fine. You two stick together and do not leave each other's sight. I'll scope out the place and come for you once I've found an exit. Got it?"

Elizabeth grinned, happy that she had gotten what she wanted. Without much hesitation, she grabbed Dante's hand and dragged him away, barely glancing back a Booker as she did. All the older man did was shake his head before proceeding to case out the boardwalk.

 **XxxxX**

"Whoa, slow down!" Dante pleaded, though honestly he was having as much fun as she was.

"Can't! There's so much to do and see, and so little time to see it!" Elizabeth was happy as a clam as she dragged her partner across the boardwalk to the ice cream parlor. A blast of cool air hit them as they entered, something which displeased Elizabeth greatly.

"Why is it air conditioned in here? The air in Columbia is freezing, due to the altitude. It doesn't need to be air conditioned, people are already cold," she grumbled, hugging herself tightly.

"Well, perhaps it needs to be cold, that way the ice cream doesn't melt." Dante explained as the two walked up to the counter. "S'cuse me, two ice cream's please."

"Alright sonny, what'll it be?" The vendor asked.

"I'll have a chocolate and a vanilla for the lady," he said, glancing sideways at Elizabeth to see if that's what she wanted. She nodded.

"Comin' up," the vendor said, turning away from them to begin preparing the ice cream. Dante and Elizabeth watched with interest while he prepared it.

"So you've never had ice cream before?" Dante asked, keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior from the other patrons. Luckily, no one seemed to pay any attention to them. Then again, most of the patrons were parents with their children or couples.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Nope. But apparently everybody likes it, so."

"You're missing out then."

"Here you go." The vendor handed the two their respective cones. "That'll be two silver eagles please." Dante dug through his pocket and handed him the currency. "Thanks and have a nice day."

Dante nodded and took a bite from his ice cream. It was surprisingly the best he'd ever had—the quality was kind of rich and it tasted...pure? He supposed it had to do with the fact that they couldn't really grow anything up here without the use of green houses. Then again, how do they get the milk without cows? These questions, while valid, were in the end irrelevant, as neither Dante or Elizabeth cared very much.

Elizabeth took her first bite and her eyes widened in surprise. She barely remembered to close her slack-jawed mouth in time, swallowing the cold treat in awe as she gazed at it in surprise. The flavor was much richer and sweeter than anything she had ever had before, and it was cold, but mushy too. She'd never seen anything like it, and although she had heard of this delicious treat, she had always thought that the people telling the stories were exaggerating. Now she knew that they weren't and she herself felt like singing the praises of this wonderful treat. She grinned, taking another bite.

Dante, looking at the befuddled girl, smirked, licking his own cone. "So? How is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Words escaped the amazed girl as she bit into the frozen confection, her eyes still large. She simply nodded as she downed the treat, Dante nodded as well as he watched her, not interrupting.

They finished their ice cream in relative silence, only speaking once throughout. The conversation they did have was short lived, as the only thing it entailed was Dante informed his companion that she had gotten chocolate sauce all over her ascot.

When they finished, the pair cleaned themselves up in the lavatory inside the ship, then headed outside into the chilly night to head to the gift shop on the other side of the pier.

When they arrived there they discovered it mostly deserted, save for a shop clerk and a couple of security guard.

"Welcome! Feel free to browse around," the clerk greeted, ushering them inside.

Elizabeth shivered as she stepped across the threshold of the store, wrapping her arms around herself tightly

"You alright?" Dante asked, taking note of her action and preparing to offer his own coat if needed.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I'm fine. But…" she sighed, shaking her head. "The sooner we get out of this cold, the better. If I had knowing that I was going to escape my tower today, I most certainly would have dressed for the cold weather."

Dante nodded. "Well, I'm sure there's a shop around here somewhere that sells coats and the like. If we have enough Silver Eagles, I'm sure we could set you up with something."

Elizabeth tilted her head, contemplating. "Hm. Well, it is July, but it's also always freezing at this altitude. We'll see. Let's look inside here first, alright?"

Dante smiled, and without another word stepped further into the small shop. The first thing he noticed was that it was almost completely deserted. There were a few security guards milling about, guarding the entrance and something else in the far back, and the store clerk, a middle-aged man with a poorly twirled mustache and thinning hair, was working on something behind the counter. As they approached him, he looked up, a surly drown on his face-but when he saw who it was, he was all charm.

"Hello, customers! Feel free to look around," he said, chuckling. He gestured around him to the various knick-knacks hanging off of shelves, sitting on tables, and floating above their heads. Elizabeth grinned at all of it, immediately running off to fawn over a stuffed Songbird plushie. Dante followed obediently, unable to hide his amusement as she gushed over all the various things in the gift shop.

After a few minutes, they finally made their way to the back of the store, where two burly policemen were standing on either side of what Dante now realized was a weapons display. The weapon was one he'd seen before, a Heater of some kind. Obviously it was a replica, but it still looked very dangerous. Dante stepped closer to get a better look.

"Don't even think about it," a voice called out suddenly. Dante started, looking around to see that the store clerk was glaring at him menacingly. He raised his hands in surrender, stepping back to a safe distance.

"Don't worry. I have no intention of getting in a fistfight with those two." He jerked his thumb at the two officers.

The store clerk laughed. "Good. I'd hate to have to close early and spend the next few hours getting blood off the floors...again…" he grumbled that last bit, returning to his task. Dante looked at Elizabeth, who shrugged. _Best not to ask,_ her eyes said. He listened.

The duo left without incident after some time, Dante giving the three a salute as they exited the store. They busied themselves around the pier for several more minutes, checking out the various little ins and outs that were still open. At one point, they came across a book store, which intrigued Elizabeth greatly. They would've spent the rest of the night in there reading all of the books had Dante not insisted on grabbing a bite to eat before they had to meet up with Booker. Stopping by a hot dog stand on the way to the carousel. Dante placed down two Silver Eagles, gaining the server's attention.

"Two hot dogs please. One Chicago style and one with ketchup," he said, emphasizing a slight accent. The server nodded and turned away, beginning to prepare the order.

"So," Dante began, looking at Elizabeth, who was staring intently at the goings on behind the counter. "What was it like living in a tower with a giant murder bird as a bodyguard?"

Elizabeth suddenly stiffened, tearing her eyes away from the counter but not quite looking at him. "Ah...I'd really rather not talk about that with you, at least not yet. I will say that it wasn't entirely unpleasant, but I'm very glad to be out. What about you?"

"Well let's see," Dante pondered, placing his hands in his pockets. "Born and raised in New York, parents split when I was little, brought up by my mother until I started traveling with my mentor/step father and awhile ago I started traveling on my own. All in all, it's been pretty simple. Unless you wanted to know anything specific?"

Elizabeth frowned, tilting her head to the side and thinking. "Hm. Well, not exactly. Why did you come all the way up here with Mr. DeWitt? He mentioned he was a private eye. Are you two business partners? Or did he hire you to help him find me?"

Dante scratched the back of his head. "Well...not exactly. See, I was in the neighborhood and just so happened to come across his employers. I was in need of a job and they thought Booker could use some back up."

"Who are his employers?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. Let's just say they like to remain anonymous."

Elizabeth frowned, but didn't press for more info on that particular subject. Instead she changed it. "Okay. Why did they think he would need backup for a simple job such as this? I mean. I know it's not simple, but I would assume that a simple retrieval job would be easy for someone like him."

Before Dante could answer, the vendor placed their order in front of them. They said their thanks as they walked off and sat at a bench and continued their conversation.

"Well, think about it. A giant mechanical bird, religious radicals, soldiers with super powers who are led essentially by a cult leader. That basically screams backup." Dante took a bite of his hot dog, savoring the taste. Elizabeth followed suit, frowning. Something was bothering her, but she wouldn't say what. He swallowed, preparing to ask when she beat him to it.

"Who would send for me? Who would want me that badly...and why now? I've been locked In that stupid tower for nineteen years now. Why are they only trying to get me now?"

"Not sure." Obviously a lie, but he had to keep his mouth shut for now. " I'd say ask Booker, but even then he doesn't know who or why they need you." Finishing his snack, he tossed the remains of it in a nearby trash and wiped his hands. "I'm pretty sure we got some time before Booker comes back around. Let's see if we can find anything else interesting to pass the time."

Elizabeth nodded, not quite content with his answer but not saying anything. She followed him around for a little bit, commenting on various little things such as the lights and the people. When they were halfway around the pier, she stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to silence Dante when he protested.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered, looking around.

"What? The performance going on the stage?" He asked, pointing at said location. On the stage, two performers, in outfits and oversized masks, were putting on a show for some kids that were in front of it.

"Look! Duke and Dimwit! You know… 'remember, boys and girls, don't be a dimwit!'...How could you not know that?"

"Must be something particular to Columbia." Dante commented, looking at the odd performance.

"Oh, I loved those stories when I was a kid. But they are...they are a bit...off-putting."

"You think so?" he asked, frowning as they continued walking-well, he walked. Elizabeth more or less jogged the rest of the way, only coming to a stop when she was standing in front of the large plastic figures. He was almost there himself when he heard her yell, "Booker!" He upped his pace, jogging the rest of the way and before long he was next to Elizabeth, who was excitedly telling a rather passive Booker about everything she'd discovered.

Once he'd caught up with them, she'd just asked Booker if he was interested in gardening. The idea seemed ridiculous, even to Dante. Booker DeWitt? Gardening? He just couldn't see it. But Booker shrugged, humoring the girl.

"No, not really. My wife though, she had a little garden out back in our old place. Used to spend every free hour working on it." Booker's eyes glazed over as he talked, seemingly lost in his memories.

"Oh, you're married? I didn't know that," Elizabeth said, surprised. She was about to ask for further information before Booker shook his head, frowning as he was brought back to the present.

"No, she died a while back."

"How?"

Booker was quiet for a moment, unsure if he wanted to reveal that information just yet. He apparently decided that it wouldn't do any harm, as he finally said, "Giving birth."

Elizabeth was even more surprised by this new bit of information. "Oh...you have a child?"

"No," said Booker flatly, with a note of finality. Dante winced.

'All in time.' He thought before clearing his throat to gain their attention. "So Booker, have you found us a way towards the airship?"

"Well, we're gonna need to summon the gondola if we intend to reach that airship." He replied, pointing towards the gondola landing. It appeared he was glad of the subject change, his tone a bit lighter now that they had moved on. It wouldn't do to have him grumpy for the rest of the trip, especially considering what could go wrong, and probably would. The three made their way toward the landing as they stood in front of the control.

"These seem to be the controls that summon her," Elizabeth pointed out, a tad unnecessarily.

Dante pulled the lever, knowing what would happen next-and sure enough, the controls shorted out just as he did. He sighed, Booker groaned, and Elizabeth yelped. It took a few moments to figure out what was wrong, but a giant poster right next to the controls helped significantly.

"Looks like this runs exclusively on Shock Jockey," she mumbled, examining the poster and frowning. "Not very reliable, is it?" she said, half-joking.

Booker huffed, his foul mood returning with a vengeance. Dante could almost see a storm cloud forming over his head. "Of course it does...where in the hell are we going to find that?"

"Look!" Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a particular section of the poster. She read the script aloud. "'Come see the future of power at the Hall of Heroes.'"

Dante shrugged while Booker looked impressed. "Huh. Well, that's convenient."

Just then, the PA was heard as a woman's voice said, " _Gentlemen, the False Shepherd and his follower is loose in the streets of our fair city! Will you suffer the shame of allowing your wives and your daughters to fall prey to his machinations? Or will you act? Act for your womenfolk! Act for your Prophet! Act!_ "

"Well the peace was fun while it lasted." Dante sighed, checking his pistol and doing a count on his ammo. Sadly his revolver ammo was low, only a good fourteen shots left (counting the rounds inside the pistol). Well, crap. "Booker, how much ammunition do you got?"

"Only a few magazines. Why?"

"I have an idea, but you'll have to follow my lead."

Booker raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Now hang on. I don't like going into any situation blind. What's this all about?"

"I'm trying to make sure we can slip past unnoticed." He explained, looking around. "I can guarantee we can get past the guards and get to the Hall of Heroes without brute force. Just let me take the lead, trust me."

"I don't like trusting folk I don't know." He raised a hand to stop Dante's oncoming protests, sighing. "But...you have proven to be trustworthy. So we'll follow your lead. If this plan goes south, though-"

"If this plan goes south, I'll deal with it," Dante promised. "Now come on." He made his way towards the direction of the Hall of Heroes, which was guarded by a police barricade. "Good evening, officers," he said, waving a hand to gain their attention. "I saw a suspicious looking fellow around by the gift shop. He might be still there if you go now. I could have sworn he had the mark of the False Shepard!"

This got their attention as they jumped over the barricade and made their way down to the shop, though one guard still remained, just in front near the entrance of the elevator that went to the Hall of Heroes. Dante frowned.

"Hey, aren't you going with them?" He asked.

"Can't. Someone's gotta make sure no one gets through." The guard responded, shifting his weapon.

'Great.' Dante thought. 'Well, vigors don't fail me now.' He extended his arm as the Possession vigor activated and he thrusted it towards the guard. The green spirit flew forward and landed into the guard, making him stagger, and then stood straight at attention. Walking towards the guard, he snapped his fingers in front of him. "Right then." Dante then turned around. "It's all clear now. Obviously this guard won't move a muscle unless I tell him to. Or until the others come back. Or until the vigor wears out and...well never mind that, let's go, quick."

They followed Dante through the entrance to the theme park, careful not to be seen by anybody else as they moved through the abandoned area. They quickly came across a poster, mentioning that the Hall of Heroes was shut down.

"Hall of Heroes closed until further notice..."

"Then there won't be a line to get in."

They entered the elevator, Booker slamming the button with as much force as possible for whatever reason. But just as they started to descend, the power cut out, shaking the metal container violently.

Booker was the first to mention it. "What the hell?"

"Is something wrong?" Elizabeth asked, frowning, moving towards the fuse box as Booker pried it open.

"Nothin' I can't fix." Booker fiddled around in there for a little bit before pulling out the fuse that blew. As he replaced it, a certain kind of buzzing filled the air. Dante held his breath, knowing what was about to happen.

"Agh! Oh, it's a bee. I-I hate these things!" Elizabeth complained, swatting at the air, trying to move away from it. She frowned as she lost sight of it.

Booker just rolled his eyes, not looking up from where he was still messing with the fuse box. "Ah, jeez, just kill it," he muttered.

"No, it'll sting me!"

"Elizabeth!" Booker groaned, still not looking at her as he replaced the panel on the fuse box and screwed it back in place.

"I have a better idea," said Elizabeth, shortly before the two men felt a large gust of wind and saw a ray of blinding light.

Booker turned around and, seeing what Elizabeth was doing, stopped dead in his tracks. She was making an opening motion with her hands, and opening a kind of portal at that... "What are you doing?"

"I'm...opening...a tear!" She grunted the words between heavy breaths—whatever she was doing clearly required a lot of exertion. Dante could actually see beads of sweat on her forehead, which surprised him—the numerous times he'd seen her do this before she had always made it seem effortless. Apparently not, though it made sense—after all she _was_ opening a portal to another universe.

The air in front of her warped and shifted before it opened up, as the side of the elevator was miraculously replaced by a window—though not just a window. A wall, with the aforementioned window and a side table with a photograph of a small family on it and a vase of flowers situated next to it had taken up the entire left side of the elevator. Dante and Booker stared in amazement and confusion as Elizabeth leaned out the window, plucking a flower from the bush outside—was it outside? They were still technically inside, after all—and tucking it behind her ear.

Dante gasped. Even Booker seemed surprised. "Whoa, shit. What is that?"

Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face them and smiling. "It's a tear. I used to open them all the time in my tower."

Booker was not quite over his initial shock, and made that very clearly known. "B-what is a tear?" he demanded.

Elizabeth sighed, turning back to the open window, which was now letting in a cool breeze. It was suddenly very cold in the little box. _This window must be located somewhere in Columbia_ , mused Dante. "It's like a-a...a window. A window to another world. Most of the time they're dull as dishwater: a different-colored towel or tea instead of coffee. But sometimes? Sometimes I see something amazing...and I pull it through." She points to the flower in her hair for emphasis.

Booker whistled, impressed. "Good god. I don't suppose you've got an airship in there?"

"If she did, do you think that it's fit in the elevator?"

Elizabeth laughed while Booker frowned. "I don't think so, no. But there is...th-there is something...I—" she gasped, her eyes widening in fear as she heard the sharp trill of Songbird's cry as he flew around outside, searching for his missing prisoner. "Oh no!"

Booker marched over to Elizabeth, standing beside her and drawing his gun. "Close it," he ordered, quietly, presumably so as not to draw attention to themselves where Songbird could see.

"I-I'm trying!" she panted, putting her best efforts into closing the tear as quickly as possible before it was too late. But it was—Songbird noticed them, and began to fly towards them, shrieking. Dante's heart raced as he too rushed to Elizabeth's side, gun out and loaded.

" _Close it!_ "

Suddenly, the tear disappeared and Songbird was gone, as was the window and the wall. The elevator was an elevator once more, with the flower in Elizabeth's hair the only indication that it had even been there at all. The lift continued to descend, unaware that anything abnormal had happened, and Dante put his gun away as Elizabeth leaned against the wall, panting and clutching her side.

Booker still held his gun in his hand, however, and judging by the look on his face and his tensed shoulders he was not planning on letting go any time soon. "I don't really understand what I just saw back there, but it sure as hell looks like a shortcut to getting us killed," he said with a quiet sort of anger. Dante winced.

"But I could help—" Elizabeth tried, defending herself, but Booker raised his hand to silence her.

"I can handle whatever comes along. Trust me."

Elizabeth looked away, something akin to embarrassment on her face as she huffed quietly. "Have it your way, I suppose…"

Dante felt sorry for her—she had only been trying to help, and Booker seemed like he was overreacting. Maybe he should talk to him...but of course, he would have to wait until he calmed down and Elizabeth was out of earshot. He wasn't sure how exactly he was going to change Booker's mind—if he had learned anything about him in his brief time with him, it was that the man was stubborn—infuriatingly so, in fact. He was going to have to come up with a really good reason to let Elizabeth use her powers. That thought in mind, he followed Booker and a sulking Elizabeth out of the elevator and down a set of stairs into the main lobby of the entrance of Soldier's Field. They passed by vandalized posters and crude barricades that had weapons propped up upon them. Dante, taking advantage of this, grabbed a machine gun for Booker and a shotgun for himself. Elizabeth helped as well and gave them a few boxes of ammo that were strewn about. They were nearing the archway where it lead out into the part of the park, when they came across an open crate containing a familiar vigor. Well, familiar to Dante—Booker simply stared in hostile curiosity at the thing, examining it closely.

"What the hell is this?"

"Bucking Bronco? Oh, it's one of those newer vigors. It lifts people up in the air for a short while. Pretty useful for combat, I'd suppose, though what household application it would serve I have no clue."

Elizabeth shrugged while Booker continued to look at the bottle suspiciously. Finally, the older man sighed, popping the cap off and downing the bottle in one fell swig. Dante blinked, surprised, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow when he put it down a second later. "That was fast," she commented.

Booker shrugged. "I've had experience. Isn't there supposed to be some kind of-whoa!" He cut himself off, suddenly looking down at his hands-Dante looked too, wanting to see the effects of the vigor, but all he saw was the AD mark on the back of his left hand. He frowned. When he had gotten Bucking Bronco the flesh on his hands had cracked and floated. No such thing was happening to Booker. Perhaps it was a hallucination caused by the drink? Thought for another day. Out of curiosity, Dante flexed his hand to see if any of his vigors were still there. They were but something was...off for lack of a better word. It felt like he was tired yet at the same time he felt fine. Then it occurred to him.

"How the hell could I have forgotten?" he said out loud without any preamble. This obviously confused the other two, who turned to him in confusion.

"What?" they asked in unison, obviously confused.

"If we're gonna be using vigors more often, we're gonna seed Salts. Remember the blue bottles? He asked Booker, who nodded. He then turned to Elizabeth, who looked even more confused than before. "Salts replenish our vigors. Some are as small as perfume sprays and others as a big as whiskey bottles. The bigger the bottle, the larger the quantities of Salt. I'd say you're doing fine, Booker, you just got a new vigor and so your Salts should be replenished now. But I'll need a big bottle."

Elizabeth nodded, finally understanding. "I'll see what I can find."

"Thanks."

She walked back from where they came from and came back a few minutes later holding a bottle of Salts.

"Will this do?"

"Let's find out." Dante took the bottle and uncapped the top, putting the rim to his lips, he chugged down the bottle. Finishing the last drop, he wiped his mouth and tossed the bottle aside, where it broke loudly against the wooden floor. He winced slightly. Oops.

"Careful," warned Booker, raising an eyebrow. "We don't want to warn anyone of our presence."

Dante peeked around the corner before saying, "Well I'm seeing a few enemies right now." He checked his shotgun before pulling the lever to load in a round. In addition to that, he flexed his hand to summon the Crow vigor and asked Booker, "You ready?"

Booker already had his Devil's Kiss equipped and his machine gun ready. "Yeah, I suppose so. Don't suppose we can sneak past 'em?"

"Afraid not. Gotta punch straight through them." Dante then turned to Elizabeth. "Stay behind us and find cover. If you find any extra ammunition, weapons, or Salts, toss 'em our way."

Elizabeth nodded. "Okay. Just don't die?"

Dante shot her a smile. "Promise." He saluted her, stepping back cheekily and then turning to follow Booker as he planned their attack on the (hopefully) unsuspecting men.

"Here's what I'm thinking: we use our vigors to take out this first batch. Not sure what kind, I'll leave that to you. That turret over there, though-don't destroy it, I'm going to possess it. I'll take them head on, gunning them down while you take them down however you see fit. Though keep an eye on the roofs, there might be a sniper. If you plan on using any vigors beyond the first point, though, best to let me know."

Dante nodded, processing all of this information and memorizing it. "Good plan. I think I'll be using my Murder of Crows for the first batch. If we combine that with Devil's Kiss, it should tear them apart. As for the sniper, well my shotgun can't do jack from the ground so lay some suppressing fire."

Booker nodded, jerking his head towards the batch of founders still congregated near the entrance to the park, going on about how they would catch a man by the name of Slate. Booker sighed as Dante chuckled. "Shall we?" he asked, and without answering, Booker stood up and quickly made his way down the steps. Dante took that as his signal and shot his hand forward, summoning crows to swarm the gathering. The founders didn't have a chance to grab their weapons, more concerned with trying to swat away the crows. Booker ducked behind some boxes before peeking out and shooting his hand out towards the turret. The green ghost landed into the machine as it turned on the men guarding the skyway. Dante took the confusion of crows as an advantage as he gunned down the group. Dropping the last man, he looked around to check on Elizabeth who was taking cover behind a barricade. He'd barely turned back around before he felt a few shots force him into taking cover.

Ducking down behind a bench, Dante yelled, "Booker! On the roof!"

Booker looked up from where he was crouched and lined his gun up with the man on the roof, taking him out fairly quickly. It was then he was being pelted by turret fire, the possession wearing off. Turning his attention to that, he quickly dispatched the machine. But there trouble's were all but over when Elizabeth yelled, "Booker, Dante! Crow!"

The two turned to see a flurry of crows come together to form a hooded man weilding a sword and a coffin strapped to his back. The two laid down suppressing fire as the Crow dispersed into a flurry of crows, moving in a radical movement. Dante looked over at Booker as he raised his hand. Booker followed the same motion as the Crow reappeared, only to be hit by Dante's Bronco and Booker's Devil's Kiss. The founder screamed in pain as he dissolved into dust, the coffin being the only thing left of him.

After that, they were the only ones on the boardwalk. Dante sighed with relief, looking for a place to sit down for a moment, though he did go over to the remains of the crow powered founder and kicked open the coffin. To his surprise, there was a bottle of Murder of Crows inside. Grabbing it, he looked it over before walking down to a bench to catch his breath. Booker got up and headed over to Elizabeth, taking the machine gun ammo she had been about to toss him. Dante heard him speaking to her, but he couldn't make out what he was saying-deciding that this was more important than sitting down at the moment, he walked over to them.

"What are you two discussing?"

Before Booker could speak, Elizabeth cut in, grinning smugly. "He admitted that my tears might come in handy the next time we're in a fight. But, there has to be a tear around for me to use. I can't just pull them out of thin air. By the way, that man they were talking about, Slate...who is that?"

Booker actually chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Slate? I actually know the fella. Seems he's still got a knack for making enemies."

"Old acquaintance of yours I assume?" Dante asked, already knowing the answer, and Booker nodded. "I figured. Don't suppose you two parted on good terms."

"That's not really your business, Dante," Elizabeth interjected. "Unless he poses a threat to us, then he's not really of interest, is he Booker?"

"We should still watch out for him. Man's always been unpredictable. Who knows what he's up to right now."

Sighing, Dante glanced over the surrounding area. "Elizabeth and I should go find some extra supplies while you take this," he tossed the Murder of Crows bottle over to Booker, "and relieve these poor devils of their supplies."

Booker caught it with deft grace, examining the bottle before unscrewing the cap and downing the contents. He stared intently at his hand for a few seconds, staring at what seemed to be nothing, before shaking his head and heading over to the nearest corpse to search for supplies.

Dante and Elizabeth turned around as they made their way towards the gift shop. As they stepped in, something peculiar caught Dante's eye. Moving closer, he found a strange book in the neck of a cannon. It appeared to be a code book of some kind, but he couldn't' be sure.

Looking it over, Dante handed it to Elizabeth-no doubt she would know what it was and how to use it. "Oh," she said, flipping through the pages. "It's a code book for a cipher. A secret message from the...Vox Populi? Huh."

"The cipher should be around somewhere, shouldn't it? Should we spend time looking for it?"

"Sure. Saw a bar on the other side of the street. Maybe we could start there. For now, let's look around here."

The two looked around some more before Elizabeth tugged at Dante's arm.

"Look at this! My tower. It's only fair they give me a cut of the profits, don't you think?"

Dante chuckled. "Well, they are using your likeness." He stretched his limbs and cracked his neck. "Nothing else seems to be here. Wanna check out the bar?"

"Uh, sure, but are you sure it'll be there?"

He shrugged, a smirk playing across his face as he looked at his companion, who raised an eyebrow at his behavior. "Call it a hunch."

They exited the gift shop, making their way to The Fellow Traveler, where immediately Dante sensed that something was off. He grabbed Elizabeth's arm, pulling her across the threshold she had just crossed and pulling her behind him. At her protests, he clamped a hand over her mouth, signaling her to be silent. "I think there's somebody here," he explained, surveying what he could see of the area. Nobody in sight, but they were probably well-hidden. He drew his skyhook, and Elizabeth's eyes widened and she wisely stayed behind Dante. "Erm...what exactly are you planning on doing with that?"

"You don't want to know."

While this answer clearly dissatisfied the young girl, she chose to remain silent, deciding that it wasn't important right now-what was important right now was finding the hidden aggressor and taking him out before he did the same to them. From a medical standpoint, you can only do so much for a person if they've been shot in the face, after all. Dante advanced quietly but quickly, scanning any hidden areas for signs of anybody. He didn't see anyone-not anyone who was alive, at least. Dead bodies were slumped in booths, some with food still in front of them, others with beers in their hands. Some were laying on the floor and others on tables-at the bar itself, one ex-patron's head was laying on the counter, as though he were simply napping instead of decaying. One thing of note was that most of the Patrons were not Founders. They were men of color and wore clothing that consisted mainly of red. He heard a radio and a woman's voice going on about a revolution. 'This must have been a hold out for the Vox.' He thought, stepping over a corpse. Dante wrinkled his nose at the smell, and was about to check behind the bar when a Founder popped up, gun in hand. Dante acted fast, bringing his skyhook down on the maniac's head and catching the neck in the hook before having it spin full throttle. He winced as the man screamed, the rotors now wet with blood and spinning furiously. Once the man's body hit the floor Dante quickly turned off the machine, grabbing a nearby cloth and wiping it before putting it away. He sighed, turning back towards the entrance to assure Elizabeth that everything was okay and that she could come in now, but when he turned, he didn't see her.

"Elizabeth?" He called out, beginning to worry slightly as she didn't show. Where could she have gone? Was the Founder he had just dispatched just a distraction to nab Elizabeth? Had Booker called her back over to him, and she was safe, so there was no need to worry? He began to move towards where he had left her, listening for any indication that she was hiding for whatever reason. Just then he heard a soft retching sound coming from behind one of the booths. Dante moved over to the source to see Elizabeth on her knees, her hand covering her mouth. He winced as he came closer, trying not to smell the vomit as he kneeled beside her, placing his hand on her back.

"You alright?" he asked, knowing it couldn't have been easy to see what he just did. She stiffened suddenly, straightening as much as she could and smacking his hand away. "Elizabeth-"

"Don't touch me," she snapped, then sighed, leaning back and trying to compose herself before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I-I know you had to do that, I just-" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She sighed again, more heavily this time. "It's so awful. I hope this Shock Jockey thing gets us to Paris. I can't wait to be done with all this."

"Same." He looked around before looking back over to the bar area. He wondered… "Need something to calm your nerves?"

"...How do you mean?"

"Well, we are in an establishment that serves depressants. That tends to calm people down," he suggested subtly, though judging by the confused expression on her face she still didn't get it, so he sighed. "Alcohol."

"Oh." She frowned, looking around at the bar area where Dante had killed the Founder, stepping back a bit. "I'd really rather not go over there, but if you've got something you want me to try, I'm not averse. Just...bring it over here."

Dante nodded, heading over to the bar and looking at the options. What would work best, he wondered. No doubt she'd never tried the stuff before, so she'd be pretty susceptible to whatever he gave her-best to do something light and watered down for her first time. He ducked under the bar and rummaged around for one of the ingredients, before finding the other on the shelf behind him. Lastly he grabbed a small four ounce glass and filled it about three ounces of it. Finding an clean knife, he stirred the concoction before picking it up and carrying it over to Elizabeth.

"Here you go." He handed it over to her, which she gingerly accepted. She sniffed it once, reeling back and blinking rapidly as the strong scent overwhelmed her nostrils. "Oh! That's...that's strong. Uh, thank you," she said, remembering her manners before taking a quick sip and almost immediately regretting it. "Blech. This is alcohol? I don't see what all the fuss is about…" She took another sip, more out of politeness than actual urge to, and frowned again. "What is this called?"

"Rum and Cola. Mixture of a dark soda and rum. You're supposed to drink it one sip at a time, but since I gave you a small glass, you're supposed to down it in one go."

Elizabeth blinked at that, looking back down at her glass, lifting it up for appraisal. "All of this at once? I don't think so. How is that even possible?"

"Pinch your nose, tilt your head and then down it." Dante demonstrated by doing said actions, minus downing the drink. Elizabeth's eyes widened, taking it in before she tried to mimic said actions. The results were far less glamorous than either of them had expected, however-she managed to down the drink, but the taste of all of it at once was far too much for her and she gagged, making a ridiculous face.

This caused Dante to snicker-he tried to cover up his smiles but failed miserably, causing Elizabeth to narrow her eyes at him. "What's so funny?" she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

"Your face," he tried to explain in between his snickers, "it looked so funny…" he dissolved into a fit of giggles, and although she tried her best not to join in, she inevitably did, until both were laughing uncontrollably. When they finally stopped, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her eyes and grinned. "I needed that," she admitted finally, stepping back a bit. "Thanks."

Dante shrugged. "Hey, no problem. Sometimes laughter's needed at times." He got up up, giving Elizabeth a hand and helped her up. "Now, judging by all the deceased Vox, I'll assume that cypher is somewhere near. Shall we?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I think I saw a hallway over there earlier. We should probably start there."

"Alright then." The two made their way into said hallway, a bathroom just on the left as they entered. The code was scrawled on the wall with dripping red paint, making it look very ominously like blood. Dante frowned, tilting his head to see if he could make out any words. Normally he'd be able to read any pre-existing language thanks to the TARDIS(and lessons he picked up through the years)-but it was just symbols, the meaning of which was lost without the code book.

"This is what the codebook deciphers, I'm sure of it!" She took out the book, flipping through the pages and concentrating intently on the task at hand. "Let's see..."tip the hat to the Vox".

Dante tipped the hatrack which revealed a hidden passage. He blinked, impressed, and took a step forward, looking into the narrow passageway. He shrugged, turning back to Elizabeth

"Tip of the hat," he quoted cheekily.

She nodded, stepping into the passageway with him. "Indeed."

They walked down into the secret room, the room having propaganda posters of a woman all over. Dante recognized her as Daisy Fitzroy, and pointed out as such to Elizabeth, who began looking over the posters curiously. While she did that, Dante spotted an Infusion on the table. Walking over to it, he grabbed the bottle but stopped himself before he popped it open. He remembered from his countless hours playing this game that drinking an Infusion could grant you capabilities of more health, salt, or shield. But he wondered-what would happen in the so-called "real world" if it was taken? He frowned.

"Daisy Fitzroy, I've read about her. Books say she's out to tear Columbia from the sky." Dante's attention was torn from the bottle to Elizabeth as she said the words. He shrugged. "Everybody's got a dream," he muttered. He was about to turn back to contemplating when he noticed a Voxaphone sitting on the table. Walking over to it, he picked it up and searched for a name-it took some searching but he finally managed to see a tiny "Daisy" scrawled on the back in elegant cursive. "This definitely belonged to her," he mused. He pressed play.

" _The one thing people need to learn is that fear is the antidote to fear. I don't want to be a part of their world. I don't want to be a part of their culture, their politics, their people. The sun is setting on their world, and soon enough, all they gon' see...is the dark._ "

It ended, the ominous tone of the woman's voice still making him shiver even after the tape was long over. He frowned, and turned to Elizabeth to ask her opinion.

"That sounded less like a dream and more like a nightmare," he admitted to her, and she nodded, taking the device and examining it. "I'm going to assume that was Fitzroy."

"No duh." She handed it back to him. "She's either the savior of the people or the worst of scoundrels, depending on you ask. She reminds me of Paul Bunyan-so many myths and legends surrounding them that you can't tell the fiction from the truth."

"Same can be said of Comstock. Just depends on how you spell their name." On that cheery note, he sighed, pocketing the device and starting back towards the stairs. "We should go meet back up with Booker."

"Wait! What's that?" She made her way over to where the Infusion still sat after Dante had put it back down. She picked it up and examined it closely. "It looks like some sort of...I don't want to say infusion, but…infusion. Have you seen anything like this before?"

"Yes. In fact, our employers were kind enough to give Booker and I one. You can improve your durability, increase your tolerance for salts, or-" He suddenly had an idea. "-Or...you can become bulletproof. It's how we're able to take shots and not be riddled with wounds. Though it does sting a little. Point is, if you drink that, you can basically be protected from any oncoming fire."

Elizabeth blinked, tilting her head in contemplation. "Really? That's fascinating. I suppose something like that would be quite useful in your line of work. Maybe I should get one," she mused aloud. When she looked at Dante's expression, she took a step back, looking at him incredulously. "You're not serious? I don't even know what's in that…"

"I don't know either. That and it tastes horrible, but it is worth it. Booker and I would be dead ten times over if we didn't have this. I know you aren't fighting with us, but you are in the line of fire and you should have some protection."

Elizabeth considered it, taking the glass bottle and uncorking it. She sniffed it suspiciously, then paused. "Oh, it doesn't smell that bad. Hm...kind of like cinnamon...and it would be useful to have, I'll admit...all right, fine. I'll take it." She sighed and held her nose with one hand while the other poured the liquid down her throat. As soon as the taste registered she gagged, making a disgusted face, but didn't stop until the bottle was empty. Once it was, she dropped it, bringing her hands to her throat and gagging almost comically. "Oh, I was wrong. I was so very, _very_ wrong."

Dante laughed. "Yeah, it tastes like...well, how I imagine acid tastes like. But you're bulletproof now so I think it's worth it. How do you feel?"

"Not much different, I'll admit...but I suppose I'll know as soon as I'm shot at. Hope it works. Do the bullets just fly past, or do they bounce off, or…?"

"I'd say it's like if a bullet where to hit something bulletproof. It hits, flattens, then just falls off."

"Oh, wow. I'm pretty sure that defies the laws of physics, which is...really cool, I'll admit. This definitely merits further study, but for now I suppose it'll have to wait. Let's go check in with Booker again.

"Yes, let's."

The two made their way out of the bar, Dante swapping his shotgun for a carbine, and met Booker at the formally guarded sky-line, where he regarded the two with a rather unpleasant look-Elizabeth wilted a bit while Dante frowned at the man.

"Where were you two?" The PI asked, sounding like a concerned parent. Knowing what he did, Dante almost chuckled, but decided that it was in his best interest not to. He wondered if it was a good idea to tell him about the bar. Probably not.

Elizabeth, bless her, decided to break the tension. "They shut down gondola access to the Hall of Heroes. Must be because of what's going on with that man Slate." She then checked a bag that laid on one of the crates.

"Well, I suppose we can take those sky-lines above us. We just need to find a way to clear off that cargo first."

Dante pulled the nearby lever as the cargo moved upward towards the Hall of Heroes. He watched it go, the labels becoming a blur as they hurried off into the distance where they disappeared from view.

Elizabeth lifted up her arm as the bag she dug through held a skyhook. "This is going to be fantastic!" She pulled the trigger, making the hooks spin as she watched in glee.

Booker noticed, and the barest hint of a smile played on his lips. "You think that keen eye of yours could find some ammunition lying around? I sure could use it when there's trouble."

Elizabeth nodded. "It'll take some scrounging, but I'll do my best. The line's clear!"

Dante grinned. "Race ya!" He jumped up on the rail and went forward.

"Hey! No fair!" Elizabeth yelled as she followed suit.

"Hey! Both of you, slow down, don't run ahead—ah, shit, they're gone." Booker sighed, being left not choice but to run after them.

They rode on the skyway until they got near to the dock, where they dropped down. Dante landed first, Elizabeth not far behind and Booker caught up to the two.

"Don't run off like that," he scolded the two of them. "I know you know how to protect yourself, Dante, but Elizabeth doesn't, and if you two get separated, God only knows."

Dante nodded, understanding, but Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "What are you, my father? Come on. It's fine. Dante is more than capable."

They made their way towards the Hall's plaza before the two men spotted a reflection of something on the roof of the building. Realizing what it was a split second too late, Dante grabbed Elizabeth and pulled her behind him as the first shot was taken.

"Sniper!" Booker yelled, ducking behind a bench.

The two peaked out of their cover, looking for the position of their assailant, before more gun fire assailed them. Elizabeth ducked behind an assortment of overturned crates while Dante shielded her, locking onto the sniper with his carbine. He scoured the upper area carefully, looking for the reflective glare again and seizing his chance as soon as he did. From what he could tell from his position on the ground, the sniper was by no means taken out, but a few more well-places shots and that should be taken care of. He signaled to Booker, who almost didn't even respond, but once Dante pointed out the issue the other man nodded and began to move more towards the sniper's blind spot. He got halfway before being set upon by a couple ground troops, Booker having to duck back into cover. Dante silently cursed, before spotting something leaning against a bench next to the one Booker used as cover. A scoped sniper.

'Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.' Dante thought, switching to his machine gun(which only had one magazine left), before laying down a burst of covering fire. The gun went dry as he slid forward, grabbing the rifle and took aim. Once, twice, three times and a final fourth shot before the clip was empty and the four remaining assaulters laid dead. Letting out a sigh of relief, Dante reloaded his sniper with a spare clip he found before saying, "All clear."

The other two came out of their cover, Elizabeth shaking slightly and Booker with a thundercloud brewing on his forehead as the two walked back to Dante. Elizabeth stood next to him, hugging herself tightly. Whether this was because of the chill in the air or the events of the last few minutes Dante couldn't guess. "Looks like we found where your old friend Slate is," she pointed out shakily. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at Booker with a look of unease.

"Let's just find that Shock Jockey and get the hell out of here." Booker grumbled, putting away his weapon and leading the group towards the entrance to the building. With surprisingly little effort, Booker pushed the massive door open and ushered them both inside, letting it slam shut behind them. They walked through the trashed foyer, dead founders all around and two of Slate's men in front of them. Dante and Booker quickly and efficiently took care of them, scavenging what ammo and cash they had on them. The former studied their supplies, thinking. "Hey, maybe we should stock up on ammo and health kits. You never know…"

Booker looked up from where he was rifling through the pockets of a fallen Founder, and paused. "I suppose so. I'll finish up here-you take Elizabeth and go find of of them creepy vending machines. Get some Salt bottles too."

"How are we going to carry all of that?" Elizabeth interjected, folding her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

"Hmm…" He looked around, contemplating. "A lot of these fellas have bags or straps with pockets. Maybe you could find a satchel around here or somethin'."

"Good idea." Dante shuffled through the corpses before he slipped a satchel off a dead Founder. "Problem solved." He helped slip it on her, tightening the strap. "There you go. You're one certified Bandolier."

Elizabeth grinned. "Thanks. Shall we?"

"Almost. Let's load up on vending machines." With that, Dante dug through his pocket, pulling out two bags bulging full of Silver Eagles and tossing it to Booker. "Go nuts."

For the next few minutes, the three divided amongst the automatronic machine's, gathering ammo and salts. Once done, they managed to fit what they bought and what cash they had left they gave to Elizabeth who fitted it into her satchel. They moved forward as they passed through a set of doors into a room with a giant statue of Comstock in the center.

"Our Prophet, Father Comstock, Commander of the 7th Cavalry." Elizabeth read the plaque out loud.

Booker scoffed. "That man did not lead the 7th. Hell, I don't even remember the guy…"

A spotlight suddenly switched on, focusing its beam on the trio—more specifically, the oldest of the bunch, who glared up at the source, squinting as he tried to find it.

" _Corporal DeWitt proved his worth on the field that day_ ," an old man's voice boomed through the PA system. The sound seemed to reverberate around the room, making it sound far louder than it actually was. Booker stopped suddenly at the noise, turning away from the spotlight to search for the PA system.

"Slate."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Booker blinked, staring up at the PA in amazement. "Well I'll be…" he muttered, lowering his weapon a fraction and raising his voice so that it echoed around the room. "Slate? Is that you?"

Slate, if it was indeed him, did not seem to acknowledge or care that Booker had spoken, continuing, " _You've always been different, haven't you, Booker? You crave no glory._ "

Booker sighed, glancing at his companions as though he expected them to have an answer for how to deal with this. Met with blank stares and a shrug from Elizabeth, he sighed again, shouting at the PA, "Look, I see you're...caught up in some kind of jam here. If you could see fit to let us through to where they keep the Shock Jockey, then we'll-"

Slate cut him off before he could even finish. " _That tin soldier Comstock wants my boys dead. We won't die at his hands!_ " he cried. Dante imagined him shaking his fist angrily.

Elizabeth was about to chime in, opening her mouth to yell to Slate, but Booker silenced her. "Shh! There's gonna be trouble." Elizabeth's lips formed into a thin line as she took a step back, fidgeting with her severed pinky nervously.

" _All my men have left is a choice: die at the hands of a tin soldier, or a real one!_ " As he screamed, a handful of Slate's men came into the room and opened fire on the trio, shouting similar things. The trio quickly found some cover, the two men returning to the fray while Elizabeth ducked out of sight, already searching for any kind of ammo or some health kits. After a few minutes of dodging and returning volleys of bullets, the gunfire ceased as the ex soldiers laid dead. Elizabeth remained crouched behind a stack of crates, though the other two lowered their weapons as the PA came to life again.

" _You see?! You're a killer, Booker, like it or not! This boy, here...I don't know his name, but you two are cut from the same cloth, whether you like it or not, kid!_ " Slate addressed Dante, who pretended not to notice just to spite him. He didn't think it worked.

"Just give us the Shock Jockey," Booker demanded breathlessly, that familiar thundercloud darkening his brow again.

" _If you want the vigor, Booker, you will give my men a soldier's death. They wait for you in Wounded Knee and Peking._ " With that not of finality, the PA went dead. Booker growled furiously, muttering unprintable words under his breath as he scowled. Dante hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, jerking his head at their young companion, who was pretending she couldn't hear from only three feet away. Booker shrugged his shoulder off, scowling even harder, but ceased. With that bit of business concluded, Elizabeth piped up.

"I'll try to keep us stocked with both bandages and ammo, but...the right materials aren't always at hand."

Booker didn't say anything, still fuming, so Dante replied, "We appreciate it anyways, Elizabeth. Thanks."

She nodded at him, and then followed the two men though some double doors and into the Wounded Knee exhibit, stepping over broken pieces of the exhibit and staying close to them, well aware of the dangers present. They made their way through the exhibit, seeing paintings and cutouts of atrocities committed by both Native American and US soldier alike. Dante shuddered. Columbia's definition of "appropriate for children" needed to be revised-heavily.

After only a few minutes, Slate's booming voice came over the loudspeakers. " _The tin soldier has taken credit for the deeds of the real ones. Now, your older companion, young lady...he wrapped himself in glory on December 29 1890._ "

"What does he mean?"

Booker turned his face away from the two, effectively hiding any emotion that might be playing across his face. "You don't wanna know."

"You...you were there...at Wounded Knee...I can see it in your face," Elizabeth whispered, horrified. She stepped back, allowing some space between her and Booker, though she did not appear to be afraid of him, only morbidly curious as Slate continued.

" _Tell her, Booker!_ " the PA cried, sounding every bit the delusional, old soldier still obsessed with the glory days. The pure euphoria in his voice made Dante feel sick. " _Tell her how we strode that battlefield like the heroes of Sparta! I still hear the screams...does Comstock?_ " Slate taunted as the PA crackled out, no doubt expecting them to take it as a challenge. " _Here's the soldier I spoke of! The kind of man Comstock pretends to be!_ " the ex-soldier boasted gleefully.

Numerous soldiers emerged, yelling and taunting from their various different hiding spots. They opened fire on them as Dante and Booker dodged and weaved between the oncoming gunfire. Thankfully, due to Booker's close quarter firing and Dante's long distance rifle fire, it was over almost before it started. The two finished off their last opponents with either their Vigors or slitting a throat with their skyhooks. After reloading their weapons, the PA came back on, sounding as pleased as ever with their handiwork.

" _You see, young miss? The kind of man Comstock wishes he was? A real soldier!_ "

"I don't wanna do this, Slate. Just give me what I need."

"I will...after you do the same for me. Come and look for me amongst the Boxers."

"Who are the Boxers?" Elizabeth asked innocently, emerging from her hiding spot and rejoining her companions.

"The Chinese. He means to lead us to the other exhibit." Dante explained.

" _Can you hear Comstock's tin soldiers coming to silence us? But we are the true patriots! The history that does not fit in their books!_ " Slate ranted before once again cutting off the PA.

They made their way out of the Wounded Knee exhibit and into the Boxer Rebellion exhibit. Unlike the former's aesthetic of the western frontier, the latter's was of a Chinese aesthetic, containing orange lanterns lighting the path, mountains dotting the terrain, and snow covering the ground. Hell, it actually _was_ snowing in the exhibit. Dante wondered if it was real snow-it certainly felt like it. 'I wonder how it doesn't ruin the cutouts.' Speaking of which, said cutouts were of the racially insensitive kind: Chinamen with yellow skin, Fu Manchu moustache, clawed hands, and sharp teeth leered at them as they walked past. They neared the doors that led further into the exhibit as they slowly opened.

"What is this?" Elizabeth asked, taking in everything with wide eyes. No doubt she'd never seen anything quite like it before-but he wasn't exactly sure if she was talking about the exhibit or the snow. He took an obvious wild guess.

"It's the Boxer Rebellion." Dante answered, turning to her. She was looking at one of the cutouts with a wrinkled nose. She turned to him, tilting her head in curiosity.

"What happened there?"

" _In Peking? It was my hand that put the city to the torch. Of course, that's not how Comstock tells it…_ " Slate spoke from the PA, venom dripping from every word as he recalled the memory.

The doors fully opened, but as Elizabeth stepped through the threshold, a cut out popped out in front of her which caused her to stumble and fall on her behind. "Oh!" she cried, shielding herself from the supposed upcoming danger, but one look at the cutout and she huffed, rising to her feet and dusting off the back of her skirt. "Why would they do that?" she grumbled petulatenly.

"Scare factor among other things." Dante explained, shrugging.

"As if this place isn't creepy enough," she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest.

They continued their way through the display and through a pair of double doors. Dante tried to push them open by himself, but in the end it took all three of them to even budge the massive slabs of wood. Stepping through, they came across a display depicting Comstock, with Colombia in the sky behind him, facing down the hordes of the rebellion. Dante raised an eyebrow, highly skeptical, but Elizabeth gasped.

"Oh, I read about this...Comstock led the Columbian troops to Peking and-" Elizabeth began, but startled when Slate's voice came over the loudspeaker again, cutting her off with his own booming voice.

" _COMSTOCK WASN'T THERE!_ " Slate ranted furiously, and a loud pounding sound was heard, as though he had slammed his hand against a desk. " _The Boxers took my eye and thirty of my friends! Is there even a stone to mark that sacrifice?!_ "

A severe sense of deja-vu washed over the trio as once again, a wave of enemies appeared out of nowhere. Dante and Booker readied their weapons, preparing for another relatively easy fight. Only now these guys were backed by…

"Burn in hell!"

"Oh crap. Fireman, move!" Dante yelled as he shoved Booker out of the way of a lobbied fire grenade. Elizabeth, thankfully, was smart enough to move out of the line of fire and ducked into cover as she stayed out of sight, though of course she kept an eye out for any spare ammunition. As for her two rescuers, they were having a hard time trying to dodge both the bullet and literal fire as Slate's men poured on the pressure. It didn't help that just as they started whittling down the regular forces, Booker and Dante ran out of their machine gun and sniper rifle ammo respectively. To buy themselves time, Dante shot out a combo of a Possession on one man and Murder of Crows on another group.

"Dante, catch!" He turned toward where he thought he had heard Elizabeth's voice as she threw him a shotgun. He caught it, checking the ammo quickly before yelling a quick "thanks!" and pumping the handle. He made a beeline toward the Fireman, firing shot after shot at the walking toaster oven. The Fireman barely registered the shots, barreling towards him again, though Dante knew that they affected him and noted that he was slower than before. He easily dodged the attack and pumped another shot into him before ducking behind some cover and reloading. He heard more gunshots and roaring, and knew that Booker had taken up the cause in his absence. His shotgun reloaded he rejoined the fray, delivering the final shot to the enemy and stepping back as he keeled over and exploded. Dante came out from his cover and scanned the area, before he found a particular object in the remains of the fire wielder. Picking it up and brushing off the ash, he smirked as he uncorked the bottle of Devil's Kiss and drank its contents. Just as he finished, the remainder of Slate's men opened fire on him. Tossing the bottle aside and ignoring the hallucination, he conjured up a fireball but held it for a few seconds. Confirming his wanted trajectory, he chucked the molten ball of fire as it landed and exploded. The radius of said explosion set the remainder of enemies ablaze, and he stumbled back, surprised by the force of the explosion. After a few moments of silence (bar the audio of the exhibit), the three rejoined near the entrance to the exhibit, to catch their breath and discuss their options.

" _You did them a favor. You let them die like men,_ " Slate spoke once more, patronizingly placating. Dante groaned.

"We didn't ask for this!" he shouted, getting really tired of this game they were playing. "We have no quarrel with these men!"

" _Heroes never ask_ -"

"We never claimed to be heroes," Dante spat, seething.

" _Then what are you? Look at your elder, boy. If you take away all the parts of Booker DeWitt he tried to erase, what's left?_ " There was a heavy sigh heard before Slate said, " _Come back to the rotunda...it's almost over._ " The PA cut out with a crackle, and left an uncomfortable silence in its wake. Dante was not going to ask-he knew what Slate meant and he figured that Booker deserved at least a bit of privacy-but clearly Elizabeth had no such qualms.

"What did Slate mean? What did you try to erase?" she demanded, almost running to catch up with Booker's wide strides as he began walking back the way they had come.

"Now that you're out of yours, you might realize cages have their advantages," he said, intentionally vague as he avoided both of their gazes.

"A choice is better than none, Mr. DeWitt. No matter what the outcome."

"Yeah? What if you woke up one day and realized you didn't like what you chose?"

How were they supposed to respond to a statement like that? Elizabeth didn't know, and Dante had already resolved not to push, and so all three were silent until they reached the rotunda. Just as they passed the threshold, Slate once again made his presence known. " _I've got what you need, Booker. You will find me past the First Lady's memorial._ "

Just as they approached the doors to said memorial, three of Slate's men came through the doors, as expected brandishing guns and hurling insults as they moved to surround them. Dante opted out of using either carbine or shotgun, so he dropped the latter and whipped his hand cannon out of his holster and shot the three men dead. "Well, that was a waste of time," he commented dryly, moving to holster his pistol again. Elizabeth whistled, impressed, and was about to say something when there was a loud gunshot and Dante grunted in pain, shooting a another shot into the downed man who now lay dead. "Son of a shit weasel!" He grunted as he emptied the spent bullets and placed in new ones. Taking a quick look, he saw that his jacket had a small tear on the arm and blood was seeping through. "Well, that's just great," he groaned, holstering his weapon and turning to Elizabeth, who had already begun searching for a health kit. "Do you see anything?"

"No," she admitted after a moment. "I'm sure we'll find one somewhere. For now, though…I'm not sure. Maybe there's a vending machine nearby somewhere."

"Yeah, spotted a Dollar Bill one near the Wounded Knee exhibit. For now, kid, plug up that wound best you can. We'll get you patched up." Booker placed a hand on Dante's shoulder-unfortunately the one that was injured-and the younger man winced. "Sorry. Shall we?"

They quickly made their way towards the machine, where Booker proceed to purchase a health kit (which he promptly handed to Elizabeth) and some more ammo for them. He checked everyone's ammo supply and distributed among them, and then reloaded his own weapon, checking that everything was working. By the time he was finished, Elizabeth was about to stitch up Dante before he heard her gasp and say, "Oh my."

Booker turned around to see what was wrong only to find his own words caught in his throat. His partner apparently had seen some action, as his torso and back were covered in various sized wounds. Some from bullets, others from knives but most of them he couldn't tell where they were from. It didn't really bother him seeing the scars themselves, but on the young man in front of him...holy crap. "Were you a soldier?"

Dante shrugged. "Probably not the kind you're thinking of, but yeah. I suppose so."

"Oh my God," Elizabeth whispered, reaching out a hand to touch a particularly nasty one on his abdomen before stopping herself. "This is…"

"Horrifying?"

"Horrifying doesn't even begin to cover it, kid. If I didn't know better I'd say you could've fought at Wounded Knee with me. Your life is your own and you're entitled to your privacy, I'll grant you that. But what the hell kind of scrapes did you get into to give you scars like that? Shit, those put _mine_ to shame."

Dante turned his gaze towards the ceiling, pondering through his memories. "Let's see. Some scrapes were like any others and some were...let's just say they'd put a city in the sky to shame in terms of the fantastical."

"That's not a lot to go off of, Mr. Price," Elizabeth interjected, but Booker stopped her before she could continue.

"Elizabeth, don't. Those are some of the most brutal scars I've ever seen, and even I don't really wanna know how you got them, and I'm a veteran of Wounded Knee. Just leave it, you don't need to know, and I'm sure if you knew what you were asking, you wouldn't want to either."

Elizabeth frowned, disagreement written all over her face, but she didn't press the matter further, going back to her previous task of stitching the young man up.

"And...that should do it." Elizabeth confirmed as she finished wrapping some gauss around Dante's wound which was stitched up underneath.

He checked his wound, articulating his arm around to get familiar with the pain. "Thanks." After putting his clothes back on, he straightened them out and asked, "Shall we continue?"

They proceed through the doors into the First Lady Memorial, beholding a portrait of the woman in front and on their left.

"Say what you want about Lady Comstock...the woman had an eye for fashion." Elizabeth commented, whistling.

" _You've seen what Comstock has done to my history. Now see how he's rewritten his own._ "

Booker was about to retort with something, no doubt putting into words what he was going to do to Slate when all of this was over with, or perhaps demanding the Shock Jockey once more, when he looked at the portrait of the woman and stopped dead in his tracks. Elizabeth bumped into him, having not been paying attention and following him closely. She stepped out from behind him, and looked where he was looking. "Oh, she's lovely," she commented innocently, tilting her head. "That must be her. Lady Comstock."

"Lady...Comstock?" A fever of some sort seemed to have taken over Booker. His eyes were glazed over and his weapon was lowered, pointing at the ground, and his grip was slack-Dante thought it might actually clatter to the floor. He stood rigid, his eyes fixated on the portrait in front of him-most importantly, the face, and he whispered something that he couldn't hear. Apparently, though, Elizabeth did, because she turned to Booker and frowned.

"There's that name again," she whispered to Dante. "Well, technically he said 'Anna' before, but that was probably short for Annabelle. I wonder who she is?"

Dante shrugged, not willing to give away any information that didn't need to be revealed. "No idea. Friend, perhaps? Maybe somebody important in his life? Who knows, none of our business," he muttered back, trying to dissuade her from the topic. She would not be so easily swayed, however.

"But still. It's weird. Maybe we should ask-"

The moment was over. Booker, who had been almost slack-jawed at the sight of the painting, regained his composure and hefted his weapon once more, turning to the two of them with a scowl. "It's not proper to discuss someone who's standing two feet away from you," he commented dryly. Elizabeth started, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks as she mumbled an apology. Dante snickered, but did the same.

"Who is Annabelle?"

Booker's scowl became darker. "Dante's right, it ain't your damn business. You're a decent enough girl, but you need to learn a little something about privacy and who's entitled to it."

Elizabeth didn't sulk, but it was very close. "Yes, Mr. DeWitt. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."

Booker nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer, and led the pair through the exhibit, stopping when they came across a monument of the Lady holding up a baby while riding a chariot.

""The seed of the Prophet lay in the womb of our Lady but for a single week."" Elizabeth read out loud the writing of the plaque on the side of the monument. "Comstock had a child...my books never mentioned anything about a child."

"That's quite an omission." Booker commented. "Can't imagine that was by accident."

"History is written by the victor." Dante quoted, examining the exhibit himself. Elizabeth continued to read from the plaque. ""But the child took ill and Our Lady prayed for the Prophet's heir both day and night.""

They moved towards the next exhibit which showed Comstock holding the baby, crossing a bridge towards a familiar site. Elizabeth gasped as she pointed at it, her hand shaking slightly.

"That's my tower."

 _Lo! While Daisy Fitzroy has murdered my beloved, she shall not have the child! She shall not come betwist her and prophecy! The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flame the mountains of man!_ A recording of Comstock spoke over the speakers. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she took several steps backwards as she tried to process what those words meant.

"Am I...? Am I...?" she finally asked, voice trembling as she looked at Booker, her eyes begging him to say no.

He dashed her hopes against the rocks, speaking with a tone of total disbelief himself. "You're Comstock's daughter."

The girl shook her head vigorously, her breath coming in short, quick bursts as she began to hyperventilate. She was panicking, it was clear, but Dante didn't think she would let anyone close enough to even touch her right now, let alone help her. "No, I can't be, I...I can't!"

"He wants you to follow in his footsteps," Booker continued, as if he were reading from a plaque of his own. He still sounded as though he didn't believe any of this was happening. Dante didn't really either.

"Well, I want a puppy, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna get one!" she spat, furious. She folded her arms and looked away, trying in vain to hide the fact that she was near tears. Dante longed to go over there an comfort her, but he figured it might not be appreciated at the moment. He turned to Booker, a questioning look on his face. _What should we do?_ the look said. Booker shrugged hopelessly. Dante supposed it was unfair to ask him-after all, he was not really a people person and his attempts thus far to calm Elizabeth whenever she was upset had usually ended in disaster.

'Hell with it.' Dante thought before walking over to the distraught girl, pulling out a handkerchief from his side pocket and offering it to her. "Here."

Elizabeth, as expected, glared at him, but only for a moment, as she took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes with it. She sniffed, turning to face him at last. "Thanks, I suppose," she mumbled. She sighed heavily, handing the handkerchief back to him. He took it and shoved it back in his pocket, then placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's just focusing on getting out of this crazy city," he said, turning her around and gently steering her back towards where Booker was still looking quite helpless as to how to help her. It was almost funny.

Passing underneath the bridge, they got to the door the led into the next exhibit... only for a lock to be on the door. Just as Booker was about to ask Elizabeth, Dante stepped toward the lock and pulled out a cylinder shaped device from his jacket pocket. He pointed it towards the metal lock and pressed a button on the side, holding it for a few moments as an odd sound emitted from it. After a few moments, the lock clicked and fell off the door. Both Elizabeth and Booker stared in amazement while Dante put the strange device back in his pocket.

"What was that?"

Dante turned to Booker. "Sonic screwdriver." At the confused look on both of their faces, he sighed and continued. "It's a multipurpose tool of sorts. It can open doors, defend against some types of weapons, acts as a scanner, and in extreme cases be used as self defense. It's pretty useful."

Elizabeth nodded, willing to accept this explanation, but Booker was not so easily convinced.

"Whatever, as long as it helps and doesn't explode or turn on us. Let's keep going."

They proceeded forward, passing by an exhibit of Lady Comstock's murder by Daisy Fitzroy and another of Comstock taking his vengeance out on the Vox. Dante kept a close eye on Elizabeth as they walked through this incredibly biased versions of Columbia's history, making sure that she didn't stray too far and offering his handkerchief if it was needed. Booker looked back every now and then, mouth open, as if to try to pass some consoling words to Elizabeth, but kept thinking better of it and continuing their trek. Finally they came to the large gate that permitted entrance to the courtyard. Elizabeth slipped past the both of them and through the bars, emerging on the other side.

"I can get through these bars, but you two are too broad. Let me scout ahead, see if there's some way to move forward." She did so, scouring the area vigorously, but nothing turned out. She sighed, defeated, and was about to ask the others what they wanted to do when something happened. "Look!"

She pointed at something up in the sky, and it took the two a moment to realize what it was: A tear.

"Is that...?" Booker started to ask, but stopped himself.

"It's a tear. Something I can bring into this world," Elizabeth reminded him, grinning.

"It's a freight hook. Well, that's convenient." Dante commented, surprised.

"As I said, it's a form of wish fulfillment. Alright, let me know if either of you want me to bring that freight hook in." She stood back, ready to open the tear if they wanted. Once Dante nodded, and Booker vocally confirmed it, she spread her arms wide and opened it, standing back as the two men backed up as they got a running start and jumped onto the hooks. They hung there as they looked at the ground in front of them. Not only where they were more of Slate's men, but they could see tears above and below them.

"I feel there's more where that came from. Whenever I get anxious, tears have a way of appearing. Do you see those tears?" She pointed to said tears. "We can use them against Slate's men…That tear will get us access to higher ground…and that one will give us a turret…" she said, pointing at the respective tears causing them to spasm slightly when she did so.

"And some cover…" Booker mused, thinking it over. "Nice work, Elizabeth. Go ahead and open the cover, I'll drop down and start shooting. Dante, come with me. After that, open up that turret and get somewhere safe. They have a turret of their own, so one of us will have to Possess it. How are your Salts?"

Dante shrugged. "I'm good. Let's do this."

Dante followed Booker in dropping down and followed him behind the cover while the turret started spewing bullets at Slate's men. This gained their attention as they fired back as the two men returned fire along with their turret. Booker began picking them off with his machine gun while Dante did the same with his carbine. They picked off quite a few before Dante ducked behind the cover and moved out to face them head on. He threw a Murder of Crows at them as well as a Devil's Kiss, and ignored their blood curdling screams as he charged straight for the turret and unleashed a Possession on the enemy turret. It made a dinging sound as it whirred, rotated on its axis, and the light switched from red to green. The turret gunned down the men as the Vigor wore off and they were shot to ribbons. With a toss of a charged shot of Devil's Kiss at the turret, the opposing forces that stood in their way were dispatched.

" _Comstock's pet can do some wonderful tricks. Do you know what you've got there, Booker?_ " _  
_  
"That's enough, Slate! We just need the vigor to get out of Columbia. We're taking it one way or another, Slate!"

The aged veteran did not respond as the three made their way towards a gift shop.

"Keep your eye open for that Shock Jockey vigor."

They kept going, looking around for anything of use, a few tears came into view. One a barrel full of Salts and another a crate with medical bags. Despite this, the area was unsettling. Not helped by the fact that each display case they passed, each Motorized Patriot in them started talking all at once until falling silence when Slate's voice was heard.

" _Tin men, Booker. That's what Comstock will turn us into! Wires and gears to replace heads and hearts!_ " he cried angrily, clearly still trying to get Booker to deflect to his side. Dante didn't see why. He was clearly not interested in partnering with his old war time pal but Slate was apparently nothing if not insistent. Dante sighed and Booker groaned, muttering profanities under his breath.

A spotlight then flicked on from somewhere, shining near the back of the store which displayed another Patriot-only this one began moving and started to use the barrel of its gatling gun as a battering ram by which to escape its glass prison. " _God judges, I act,_ " its robotic voice echoed through the space as its gun started to spin, signaling that bullets were mere seconds away.

"Move!" one of them shouted-nobody knew which one it was, but they all obeyed. Elizabeth quickly found some cover, ducking behind the information desk, while the other two went to opposite ends of the room. They took turns laying down some covering fire, but nothing seemed to work-that is, until another set of tears caught the two's attention. "Elizabeth, bring in the turret!" Booker shouted, freeing one of his hands to point at it. Elizabeth followed his finger and obeyed, and in seconds the tide was turned in their favor. The turret chipped away at the Patriot's shell, causing it to spark and smoke, until said automaton turned its attention towards it. Its gunfire tore through the turret and destroyed it in a matter of moments. Before the Patriot had a chance to fire on the organics, Dante yelled out, "Elizabeth, bring in the other turret!"

Elizabeth did so, and the ghostly image fizzled and shifted, finally coming into reality and shooting the automatron where it neared the brink of breaking down. It was a well placed headshot from Dante's carbine that did the Patriot in, crashing down unto the floor and sending a shockwave throughout. The trio emerged from their respective hiding spots and regrouped.

" _You see, Booker? Maybe you're the man I remember, maybe not. It doesn't matter. Comstock took our stories and scrubbed away our soul. Now...he's coming for me...and when I'm gone all that will be left is the lie._ " Slate spoke, the PA once again going dead.

"Just give us what we came for!" Booker yelled, showing just how tired he was of this little game. He actually cocked his weapon at the PA system, ready to shoot it, though he most likely knew that it wouldn't do any good except to blow the speakers out. Fortunately for everyone however Slate decided that now would be an opportune moment to shut up.

"Oh, now he shuts up." Dante commented, discarding a piece of the Patriot he picked up. He was about to say something else when he noticed a trail of purple footprints leading to a storeroom. Curious, he walked over to it, following the trail to a locked storeroom. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the door and unlocking it. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside as the other two caught up with him. Inside they found a dead attendant, several opened crates, and open bottles of Shock Jockey all over the floor. It was clear that all of the bottle were completely empty.

"The whole place is ransacked. There ain't no Shock Jockey here." Booker commented a bit unnecessarily, kicking aside one of the bottles. It skidded across the floor, colliding with the wall and shattering loudly. There was barely any liquid left inside. How much had Slate taken? 'He must be pretty doped up right now,' Dante reasoned.

"Slate must have taken them." Elizabeth looked downward, examining the path of purple footprints. "Wait, is that...?"

They looked to see the tracks lead from the storeroom, back outside into the rotunda. They followed the tracks back outside to find that crystals sparking with electricity were embedded into the floor. Elizabeth tried to go near them, but Dante, knowing what they were, pulled her back, shaking his head.

"Slate. He's here." Booker actually growled, hefting his weapon and checking that it was loaded and working before eyeing the crystals suspiciously. "Any idea what those are?"

Dante gritted his teeth. "Painful, for one. They're shock traps. Don't step anywhere near them. You'll get...well, electrocuted, obviously."

Booker quickly stepped back, not saying a word. Elizabeth did the same.

"Those steps obviously lead back outside to the rotunda. Slate's probably there, waiting for us. What should we do?" Elizabeth asked anxiously. 'Poor girl,' Dante thought. 'She didn't ask for any of this. If things go according to plan though, she'll be out of here sooner than expected. Then again, most universes have a way of throwing me a curveball, so I'll suspect it'll kick in soon enough.'

"Well, for starters, you're probably going to want to follow my lead." He stepped in between the shock trap, quickly yet carefully. The other two followed suit, and once they were clear the trio backtracked to the rotunda to hear a low groaning sound. Elizabeth had to yell to be heard over the loud sound of the gondola passing overhead; she looked up in amazement as Booker grimaced.

"What is that?!"

"Comstock's ships. He's coming for Slate," Booker revealed, cursing loudly. This time, a stern side eye from Dante wasn't enough to dissuade him. He flicked the safety off of his weapon and aimed it around him, searching for any hidden enemies. It was at that exact moment that Dante noticed Slate himself on the upper balcony on the other side of the rotunda. He pointed out as such to Booker, who growled low in his throat and began shouting, "Slate, I swear to God if you don't-" but the other man cut him off.

"It was _Slate_ who killed for his country at Wounded Knee!" the other man roared, and Dante could just make out his raised fist, punching the air for emphasis as sparks flew from it. "It was _Slate_ who stormed the gates at Peking! _Slate!_ "

"Slate!" Booker called to him again, his voiced raised higher than Dante had ever heard it-whether it was because of anger or to make himself heard over the deluded man's ravings, he didn't know. Dante didn't think Slate would answer, but he was proven wrong.

"Comstock's coming, Booker! But our lives won't satisfy him - oh no! He won't rest until he's turned us into tin! I won't let him! He took my past but that's all he's getting from me!"

"Just give us the vigor! We don't need to do this!"

Slate laughed maniacally, gesturing wildly in their general area. "Here you go, boys! A soldier's death awaits!" He raised his fist all the way, releasing a bout of the Shock Jockey, and then pointed at the trio, shouting again-but this time, to the growing number of Slate's men closing in around them, grins on their faces and weapons in their hands.

Booker and Dante took up their weapons, as well as flexing their hands, activating their vigors. Elizabeth took cover behind a pillar while the two went to work, throwing vigors and mowing down Slate's men with bullets. After killing the last man, the two reloaded their weapons with ammo and gulped down Salts that Elizabeth found during the fight.

"You're not the Booker DeWitt I remember!" Slate ranted, cleary angry that the two men had killed his men so quickly and efficiently, though Dante had no idea why. Isn't that what he had wanted? "Tin man! TIN MAN! Is that all you can muster, soldier? Come on now, DeWitt! Don't disappoint the boys! Come on, DeWitt! Show me what you're made of!" he challenged, sending out another wave of his soldiers as well as a Patriot. Dante groaned internally, raising his weapon once again and firing a well aimed shot at the head of one of the oncoming soldiers. Between the oncoming fire of both the soldiers and the Patriot, Dante and Booker were having a hard time staying alive and focusing on killing before being killed-so much so that the mechanized soldier got close enough and swung its gatling gun at them, knocking Booker aside. As he hit the pavement, his shield shattered, but he managed to role out of the way of the gunfire into cover. Once he did, he pulled the trigger of his gun, intending to continue the fight, only to hear a click. He swore, trying it a couple more times. No luck.

"I'm out of ammo!" he called to Elizabeth, who immediately began scrounging for the right kind of ammo or a new weapon for Booker.

"I can't find anything!" she called out, sounding panicked. "I'll keep trying, but I honestly don't know…"

Booker cursed as he pulled out his shotgun, taking pot shots at the remaining soldiers that tried charging him. Dante in the meanwhile was busy fighting the Patriot. He ducked and dodged between whatever cover he could find while shooting short bursts at the robot. Going behind a pillar, he checked to see his ammo for the carbine and sniper. He was down to one magazine each. He cursed as he suddenly realized that he also only had one shot of a Vigor left. Deciding to take a chance, he shot a Possession at the Patriot-the green mist hit the mechnoid and it swapped targets, mowing down the remnants of Slate's men before shorting out, falling to the ground with a loud crash that had even Booker wincing.

Everyone came out of their respective places to regroup and discuss a plan.

"I think that was everyone," Dante commented, grabbing a few magazines off the dead soldiers and tossing them to Booker. He grabbed a few cartridges of ammo for himself and loaded them into his own weapon, checking that everything was working before checking on Elizabeth. Once he saw that she was just fine, he turned to see that there was a trail of shock traps left in a general direction. He nodded over to Booker, "I guess we should try finding him. Any idea where he might have gone?"

Booker contemplated that question for a moment. "Maybe. C'mon, let's get going. Don't wanna lose him again."

The followed the trail, moving past traps and dispatching two guards until they found themselves back in the Comstock's vengeance exhibit. Slumped against the wall was Slate himself, exhausted and cradling the last bottle of Shock Jockey tightly in his hand. He wore an ugly expression, one that spoke of unbridled hatred and determination to destroy the subject of it. Distantly, Dante knew that the expression was not targeted at any of them, but the sight still gave him goosebumps.

Booker reached for the bottle, intending to snatch it before Slate could do anything about it, but the other man grabbed him and hauled him close, spitting in his face, "You're not done here, soldier! Eat everything that's on your plate! Finish it!" He proffered him a pistol then, the safety still on. Booker stared at it, while Elizabeth gasped and Dante frowned. If Booker let him live, Comstock would leave Slate a husk of a man, broken and useless-but if Booker killed him, that would be the end of it. Neither choice would really make a difference in the end. Slate would be no more either way. Unless...unless. Well, if Dante was going to do something, now is better than never.

"Booker, wait." Dante placed a hand in front of the other man, stopping him from making a choice that he would ultimately regret. "Slate, Comstock took credit for everything you and your men sacrificed. What you've done here is just graffiti, child's play. Why not join a cause that can give you numbers that can tear his reputation apart?"

Slate looked at the boy, curious temporarily override his desolation. "How do you mean? What cause could possibly stop that bastard Comstock? He's taken down my best men-well, all of my men, really. I've got nothing left, and whatever troops I can still rally Comstock will just shoot down again. I can't keep fighting, not anymore."

"What if there was another way? A way to take down Comstock, once and for all. You take what's left of your men and join the Vox."

Slate looked at him for one, two, maybe even three seconds and then burst out laughing. "Join Fitzroy and her band of rebels? Ha! As if. Are you one of them, then? Eh, I knew you looked like a soldier. Well, you can go and tell Fitzroy that old Slate is not so easily swayed. Fitzroy's troops have heart, sure, but they lack coordination. They're messy, and I don't trust them to get the job done."

"Then _show_ them coordination. _Show_ them and the Founders what you can do, so that both you and Daisy can take Comstock apart. It's like the saying goes: 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Daisy has an army, she has followers, and if you show her that you hate Comstock just as much as she does, and that you can be trusted, then Comstock won't stand a chance."

Slate looked like he was about to protest again, but then stopped, regarding Dante curiously. There was something about this boy, he realized-something that he couldn't put his finger on, and no matter how much he would think about it over the course of the next few days, wouldn't be able to figure out-but there was something about him that made Slate believe what he said. He sighed, putting down the gun and talking to himself before meeting Booker's eyes.

"You know, Booker...they haven't changed you. Not one bit. And you, kid-I don't know your name, but I have a feeling that your story is bigger than what you've told them. No matter. Very well, I'll join Fitzroy in her cause. Maybe together we can bring Comstock to his knees. And...Booker. If you need assistance, you need only ask." He stood up, brushing himself off and straightening his uniform before hesitating. Slowly, as if he wasn't sure if it was a good idea, he handed the bottle of Vigor not to Booker, but to Dante. "Here, I won't be needing this. Had too much of the stuff anyway….should probably stick to alcohol from now on."

Dante nodded, to show his thanks, and then took the vial, popped the cap, and downed the drink. Once again, he looked at his hands to watch the hallucination that the Vigors brought. He looked to see crystals growing, as well as electricity surging, growing and coiling into spiked shards in his palms before the vision passed. When his vision cleared, Slate had already taken his leave. Dante looked at Booker, questioning, but the other man just shrugged.

"Best we head back the way we came. The First Lady won't wait forever."

They headed back towards the skyway, collecting more things from corpses and generally avoiding each other's gazes when Elizabeth spoke, her voice so quiet that they almost missed it.

"Do you ever get used to it? The killing."

"Faster than you can imagine," Booker replied coolly, though there was the tone of regret in his voice. Dante said nothing, but gave a slight nod, showing he understood and agreed.

"You know, all those vigors you're using are very powerful. Though you two using them pretty sparingly. I'll do what I can to keep you two stocked in salts."

Both of them gave her a small smile, though Dante's was bittersweet—he knew what she would go through and what horrors she would face, and to think that now she had no idea what lay ahead, and was simply trying to help…

"Thanks," was all he could say.

Reaching near the skyway, they came across members of the 7th Cavalry who were mopping up Founders. The trio stopped in their tracks, the two fighters shifting their firearms. The soldiers, however, just let them pass until one particular soldier walked up to them. "Slate told us about you. Told us you should pass."

The two nodded at the soldier in acknowledgement, and he nodded back before returning to his post.

"Booker...I can tell what Slate said bothered you. You showed me -sometimes you have to what's necessary to survive."

"There's survival...and then there's finding pleasure in the act."

"Booker-"

"Look, you seem like a decent enough sort. That said, the less you know about me, the better."

On that extremely cheery note, they made their way across the way, not talking and not stopping until they made their way to the skyway.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The three made their way back towards Soldier's Field via skyway, only to find Founders waiting for them. The partners took care of any opposing forces(while Elizabeth scoured for supplies) in quick time, no one speaking a word until after a quick run in with a Patriot. But thanks to their acquisition of Shock Jockey, the mechanized menace was dealt with. Once everyone was dead, Booker called out to Elizabeth, letting her know that it was safe to come out, and then the three of them headed to the elevator.

"I don't think I understand how you...do what you do. These tears." Booker shifted uncomfortably on his feet, not quite looking at Elizabeth but not quite looking away from her either. He didn't know if this was a sensitive topic for her, but he figured it couldn't hurt. Did she even know how they worked? Perhaps she was just as clueless as they were.

Elizabeth shrugged, looking right at him as she answered. She clearly did not harbor the same reservations as he did. She thought for a moment before answering. "I always thought of them as doors," She said slowly, choosing her words as she spoke. "When I was younger, I didn't just _open_ the ones I found; I remember _making_ them."

Booker stared, uncomprehending. He tilted his head forward a little, indicating that she should continue to explain, but when she didn't, he said, "...Making them?"

Elizabeth nodded, and her next words were almost wistful. "I could go wherever I wanted, but I always wanted to come back…"

Booker was taken aback. "To what?" he scoffed.

Elizabeth didn't catch the tone, or if she did she decided to ignore it. "I don't know. My family?"

Booker tried to make sense of that, but he couldn't. The girl didn't have a family, not really. Besides, even if she did, when she was locked up in that tower she would have no way of knowing about them. Something else must have lured her back to Columbia while she was off…world? He shook his head and decided not to bother. Instead he had a much more important thing to ask. "Huh. How do you DO that...whatever it is?"

Elizabeth thought about that question for a moment. "You know how I said I had plenty of time to read? Well, I tried to figure it out. I read literature on physics and other such things," she explained.

Booker scoffed. "Yeah? And what did that teach you?"

"That there's a world of difference between what we see...and what is."

The elevator door opened as they walked out into a now deserted Soldier's Field.

"Well the difference of "what is" are due to decisions," Dante spoke up. "Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder dropped in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision is, the larger the waves it makes, the more uncertain the consequences that follow. Though to the rational mind, nothing is inexplicable; only unexplained."

Elizabeth tilted her head, looking at him curiously. "That's an interesting way of thinking, Dante. And a pretty well thought explanation."

"Thanks, my mentor taught me in ways that would help apply to people's understanding. That and I've had a bit of experience when it comes to the unexplainable."

"I'll bet," Booker said, remembering the scars he had seen.

They made it back to the lever with no opposition in their way. Examining the power mechanism, Dante made a fist with his right hand and shot it forward. A bolt of lightning came out and struck the device, a warping crystal in it giving out power as a bell chime was heard. He pulled the lever which call the aerodrome's cable car.

"The gondola's coming!"

It was then a familiar horn sounded as Comstock's voice rang from the surrounding speakers.

" _ **They will abandon you, my sweet Elizabeth. Once they have what they needs, they will leave you alone. What else could you expect from a liar and a killer of women?"**_ **  
**  
"Comstock." The two growled, not really wanting an earful of whatever bull he'd be spewing.

"Father...Prophet...whomever you are, I'm leaving and there's naught you can do to stop me."

Dante could practically hear the bitter grin Comstock more than likely had on his face. " _ **Oh, sweet child...that's where you're wrong."**_

Two airships coming from the Aerodrome were descending on their position. Booker swore loudly, and for once ignored Dante's glare that was sent his way. Elizabeth didn't seem to mind either way, as she was busy searching for the nearest available cover and signaling to both Booker and Dante to follow her. They quickly found said cover behind a vendor stall and crouched behind it, all of them thinking of a plan.

"How many of them are there?" Dante asked, peeking around the corner and beginning to count mentally.

Booker shrugged. "A rough estimate? I say about five per airship, probably more. But that still gives them somewhere between twenty to thirty men to throw at us."

"Alright quick plan: I'll take the high ground and you'll cover down here. They're bound to have sky hooks so if you see riding on the rails, shoot em down." Dante proceeded to jump and ride the skyway to a balcony to where one of the airships was heading to land.

As soon as he himself landed, the airship had pulled up to it and was about to let off a few men only to be greeted by rapid carbine fire. Two men fell dead; another one reeled back and fell off the ship, and the last man charged Dante, who parried an oncoming rifle but with his skyhook before proceeding to jam the makeshift weapon into the Founders chest. Lifting the struggling man, he pulled the trigger and shoved the gutted soldier tumbling off the side. He looked around for more enemies, but finding none in his immediate vicinity, he looked for Booker instead. Said man had dispatched a handful of Founders who'd come down via skyhook(and possibly more who were on the skyhook) and was now finishing off one man with his shotgun and another with a Devil's Kiss. That goon screamed and found himself swan diving off the edge of the dock to the ground far below. Dante took the skyhook down as another airship landed away to another platform, dropping off more troops and one who had a—

"Rocket, watch out!"

Both men swore as they scattered in separate directions, avoiding the incoming missile but feeling the shake of the explosion as they rolled into cover. Dante whipped out his sniper to see if he could get a bead on the rocketeer, but felt like an open target. He grimaced—he hated that feeling.

"Booker! Give me some suppressing fire so I can get a shot at this guy!" He yelled. The PI acknowledged his partner and came out of his cover, laying down covering fire and preventing the rocket wielder from getting a shot off. Unfortunately, one shot was not enough to take it down, and it did not take kindly to being assaulted, and fired off a shot of his own. Dante cursed as he dove to the side, but was blown back by the impact of the rocket.

Elizabeth saw this and winced. Although she didn't retreat from the sidelines of the battle, she did start to look around for a health pack, in case it would be needed. She found one relatively quick, and inched her way towards it, scooping it up and tucking it under her arm. Retreating back into cover, she saw the younger of her two rescuers pick himself up, angling his shot at the rocketeer before pulling the trigger. This time, the rocketeer dropped like a bag of rocks, and he must have set something off on his weapon or armor because as he dropped to the ground his corpse exploded rather violently, making all three of them wince. Only two men made it to the ground as they began trading pot shots with Booker, meanwhile nearly hitting Dante who dragged himself back to some cover. He was still slightly dazed but could comprehend enough before he managed to shoot a bolt of Shock Jockey at the two soldiers, who began convulsing. Booker took advantage of this as he gunned them down without a second thought. The called gondola was almost docked as the three managed to regroup. But before they could gather themselves, Booker got a decent look and noticed something that was on the gondola.

"Shit! Patriot!"

The three spread out, Elizabeth tossing the health kit to Dante before ducking behind a vending stall (but prepared to help if necessary). Booker opened fire before the mechanoid stepped off the transport and returned fire tenfold. Dante set the medkit aside as he poked his head out of cover, looking for anything or anyway to help before catching sight of a tear. "Elizabeth, there!" He pointed out, gaining the attention of the Patriot who got a blast of Shock Jockey to the face for its troubles. Elizabeth in turn opened the tear as another Patriot came into existence, emerging from the Tear with an ethereal glow. This new Patriot saw the opposing one and charged it with surprising speed, shouting one of its signature lines. The metal men exchanged blow for blow to one another before crumbling to the ground and fizzing out, both damaged beyond repair.

All three sighed with relief as they fell to the ground, destroyed. Elizabeth moved from her hiding spot and rejoined her two rescuers, hugging herself tightly. The other two noticed this but decided to give her some space as they walked onto the gondola. Finding the control door locked, Booker said, "Need a lock picked."

"I'll give it a whirl." Elizabeth pulled a bobby pin out of somewhere and went to work on the lock, toying with it for a few moments before it fell and she pushed the door open. "All yours."

Booker stepped inside the booth and pulled the lever, and the gondola was on its way towards the aerodrome dock. Both Booker and Dante were content with the silence that fell over the group, and neither made any attempt at conversation. Elizabeth, however, would not have it, and after a minute or so spoke quietly.

"When you were unconscious on the beach, you kept repeating a woman's name. Anna."

Booker stiffened, turning away from Elizabeth very suddenly. "I don't wanna talk about that," he almost snapped. He noticed with some regret that Elizabeth flinched, but otherwise he made no move to take back his words.

"...I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried," she mumbled apologetically. Once again, silence reclaimed the booth, until Elizabeth decided to speak again, albeit about a much safer topic. "Where are you two from?"

"New York." The two replied, almost in sync. Dante looked pleased with this development while Booker looked annoyed, which was fairly typical for the both of them

"What did you do there?"

Booker shrugged, preferring to keep his past as vague as possible. The less this girl knew about him, the better. Best not to get too attached to each other, after all. After this they would most likely never see each other again. "Business much like this. Not something that caters writing on a resume."

Elizabeth nodded, though she didn't quite understand. She turned to Dante, waiting for his answer. "And what about you, Dante?"

"I was just traveling on my own before this. I was born in New York, sure, but I didn't really stay there long. It was home, though, at least until I met my mentor."

Elizabeth nodded and decided not to pursue the subject further, instead sighing and glancing out the window away from the two. "Well, it was a fine thing you came along when you did," she commented.

"Heh. How do you think I ended up here?" Booker said bitterly, scowling. "I gambled. And now I owe money to men you don't want to be in debt to. I come here to pay it back. Me busting you out - what do you think that was? Charity?"

"Who sent you?"

"Somebody who was willing to take my marker in exchange for you."

She blinked, confused, but decided not to pursue the subject, something she would later come to regret deeply. She turned to Dante, hoping that whatever his answer was it was less ominous than Booker's. "And you?"

"Same people who hired him, hired me as back up. Thought he could use the help. Speaking of." He turned to Booker then, whispering in quiet tones and shielding his mouth so that Elizabeth couldn't read what he said. "Remind me to show you something when we get to the airship. A message from said employers."

Booker glanced at Elizabeth before nodding in agreement. The gondola stopped and the three stepped out and walked up a flight of stairs. They just about rounded a corner, passing some vending machines, to see another flight of stairs leading to an elevator...only to be greeted by five armed Founders.

"For the love of-" was all Booker got out before another firefight ensued and he was forced to retreat. Dante went to the other side and intercepted a soldier who seemed like he was about to flank them, but he was shot dead before he could. Rounding the corner, Dante hefted his carbine and let loose a few shots as well as a volley of crows before hiding behind the desk. Booker took note and threw a charged Devil's Kiss at a pair who stuck together before they burned into ashes. Some of the splash damage of the Vigor made it onto one of the crows that it ignited the lot and the man they were attacking who died, screaming in agony to his last breath. The last man decided to shoot rapidly at the two before his gun clicked empty. He was about to reload before a green mist was shot at him. For a few moments he remained docile before bringing his side arm to his head and pulling the trigger. With the threat gone, the group decided to take stock and used the vending machines. They used Possession to first get more cash and then used it to stock up on ammo and Salts, some of which was kept inside the bandolier Elizabeth was wearing. They then made their way up to the elevator before pushing the button, making sure that nobody was left to see them go before they did.

Elizabeth noticed a poster on the wall of the elevator, and raised an amused eyebrow. "So, looks like they call you the False Shepherd," she commented dryly, looking pointedly at Booker.

"And you the lamb," Booker retorted with equal dryness, mimicking her movements.

Elizabeth stopped, frowning at his unusual behavior. "Let's not call each other that," she said uneasily.

He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "Suits me."

Elizabeth glanced at the poster again, tilting her head in curiosity. "How'd you figure they know you'd be coming?" she wondered aloud.

"Either they've got a prophet on their side…"

"Har har."

"...or the ones that hired me also wrote the signs."

"Why?"

"Got me."

"Or they could've had ears on the ground and sent a message ahead of time." Dante added in. Truth be told, however, that question was one that had plagued him even when he first played the game.

The elevator stopped and the three boarded the ship, which surprisingly was already ready to go. Elizabeth looked ecstatic, trying to contain her excitement while the two men moved towards the back to talk. "Oh, this is amazing. This is...this is actually happening. Oh my gosh. I'm going to Paris!"

As Elizabeth practically skipped ahead, Dante began to follow her but was stopped by Booker pulling at his arm. "Hang on a second, kid. About our employers. You said something about them on the gondola. Do they want something else?"

Dante dug through his pocket and pulled out the card. "Here."

Booker took it and looked it over before giving Dante an inquisitive look. "Paris? Why the hell are we going to Paris now? They wanted us to go to New York. Paris is an entire continent away." A thought suddenly struck him, and suspicion dawned on his features. "Wait, you didn't write this, did you? Because if you think-"

"No, no!" Dante held his hands up in surrender. "I swear, this came straight from our employers. They changed their minds, I don't know why. You can ask them next time you see 'em, but don't attack me on account of your suspicions. I'm innocent."

Booker looked at his partner with uncertainty before sighing. "Fine. But if you're playing me for a fool, I swear-"

"Right, right. If it turns out I'm wrong, or if I lied somehow, then I'm giving you full permission to throw me off the side of Columbia. But if not, then...well, you know. Can we go now?" He gestured to the open door of the First Lady, up ahead, and at Elizabeth's frame bouncing excitedly in the pilot's chair. Booker sighed and nodded as he put the Paris coordinates in.

"You alright?"

"I want to see Paris. I want to see...everything."

For once, astonishingly, Booker had a somewhat smile on his face. He certainly looked far cheerier than normal. "Well, it's up to you now. No one to stop you, or tell you where to go or what to be. You're free now, kid."

Elizabeth grinned excitedly, glancing up at the coordinates. She stopped, taking a step back and frowning at Booker. "Wait, that's not Paris. Mr. Dewitt...what is going on?"

Dante looked up suddenly, glaring at Booker. 'Don't you dare,' his look said, and Booker rolled his eyes at the both of them.

"Don't worry, either of you. Elizabeth, I'm sure you know your geography-if you'll take another look, you'll notice that it's still France, just not...Paris. We're still going though."

"Then why aren't we headed straight to Paris?"

"Well, I know you want to go straight to Paris, but we can't exactly do that. We'll have to land somewhere smaller and less populated, preferably somewhere in the countryside with little no no witnesses. I mean, a giant floating aircraft coming out of nowhere in the City of Lights is sure to make national headlines, don't you think?"

"And you think landing in New York would work any better?" Elizabeth pointed out.

"While you do have a fair point, Elizabeth, I think Booker is right on this one. Paris is way too populated and several someone's would be sure to see it. If we landed in the US we could catch a plane to Paris and enter normally, without any investigations or anything like that. We'll be free to live our relatively peaceful lives. It's just easier that way."

Elizabeth pursed her lips, unconvinced. She looked like she wanted to argue with him, and Booker had no doubt that if she did that somehow she would win. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. He looked to Dante for help, hoping that the teen would have some way to end this conversation without anybody getting knocked out. When Dante didn't respond, Booker cleared his throat and subtly gestured to Elizabeth with one hand while covering his mouth with the others. Elizabeth had the gall to look offended.

"Excuse me, I'm right here," she said indignantly, crossing her arms against her chest and glaring. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused here. If we aren't going to Paris or New York, then where _are_ we going, Mr. Dewitt? I personally would like some answers."

Before either man could respond, a horn was heard somewhere, and the three barely had time to widen their eyes before the ship rocked violently, knocking the three of them off their feet. It knocked Booker aside, making him hit his head on the chair and causing him to black out. Dante, on the other hand, lost his footing and landed on his side, his head smacking against the floor. As his vision began to fade, he could see Elizabeth scrambling for the controls while an airship came into view. His sight blackened for a few seconds before he saw her run out the door. For a few minutes he could hear shuffling around the ship. It couldn't possibly be her, he realized, so someone else must have boarded in the time he had been unconscious. It wasn't until he opened his eyes, trying to blink out the blackness, did he see that people had already set up shop, including a large, dark-skinned man standing over Booker. He winced as he watched the man give him a boot in the face. Knowing who'd they'd be meeting next, (and not wanting to be knocked out) he mustered enough adrenaline to kick his body into gear. Just as the man stood over him, Dante kicked his feet under him and put his knee on his chest and held his revolver in the man's face. The face of the younger man was serious as he pulled the hammer back.

"If you folk don't want to see this man's brains splattered on the floor, would Daisy Fitzroy please step forward?" Dante called out, not taking his eyes off the Vox member having a look of both uncertainty and defiance on his face. There were murmurs among the group and glares thrown his way, but he kept his head. Eventually, the crowd all turned toward the door in the back, which was swinging open and nearly knocked over a Vox kneeling by it. A dark-skinned woman marched towards him, her expression hard to read as she gave him a once over. She frowned—no, _scowled,_ and raised an eyebrow at the scene, folding her arms and taking a step back.

"Why don't you put that gun down, sonny? I know we can talk reasonably, and there ain't no need for any folk to die unnecessarily."

"You're right, just needed to get your attention." He pushed the the hammer back into place and holstered. He got off the man and offered a hand, which he took.

Daisy's scowl transformed into a smirk, and she chuckled. "You got gumption, I'll give ya that. I could use somebody like you. But I don' suppose that's why you're here."

"'Fraid not. We were going to take this ship out from under Comstock's nose before you lot came in and snatched it. Plus," he pointed at Booker, who was still very much knocked out, and frowned. "Your man knocked out my partner, which was fairly unnecessary. That aside, any chance you lot saw a girl run out of here a while ago? She's brunette and was wearing a blue skirt with an ascot."

The other inhabitants talked amongst themselves, shaking their heads and occasionally glancing Dante's way. Daisy glared at them, but shrugged. "Don' know anything about any girl. What I do know is that you got an airship, an' I got perilous need of it. So how 'bout we do a deal?"

Dante was not going to accept any kind of deal from anybody, freedom fighter or no. Nevertheless, he pretended to appear interested for the sake of appearance. "I'm not saying yes yet, but go on."

"You this False Shepherd we been hearin' so much about?" she asked, stepping closer while still keeping her distance. "Caused quite a mess a' trouble at the raffle."

"Nope. That'd be my guy on the floor." He raised his finger. "Actually, give me a sec." Without waiting for an answer or any kind of permission crouching down, he tapped Booker on the side of his face. "C'mon, time to get up." Booker didn't even flinch. 'Ok, direct approach then.'

 _ **SMACK**_

"Whu-what?!" The PI shook awake while grabbing the side of his face that was hit. "Jeez, what the hell kid?"

Daisy walked over to the both of them, crouched down next to Dante, grabbed Booker's hand, and turned it over, inspecting the AD branded there. "So _you're_ the False Shepard, then," she concluded, before turning back to Dante. "There's a fight here in Columbia. The real question is, which side you on? Comstock is the god of the white man, the rich man, the pitiless man. But if you believe in common folk...then join the Vox. We could use someone like you...both of you actually. I've seen your progress through Columbia and what you've left in your wake. I don' know either of your backstories but I'll bet you two got some skills that would be mighty useful to us. If you believe in righteous folk, then join the Vox!" She grinned as she spoke, truly believing every word she was saying as she offered a hand to Dante. There was almost something sinister about her smile, like a wolf sighting easy prey, though she was amicable enough. Dante made a mental note to be cautious around her.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah. Hold on a second." Booker called, holding a hand up. He then turned to Dante. "What the hell did you get us into?"

"Nothing, at least not at the moment. Just let me do the talking." He turned back to Daisy. "Look, thanks, but no thanks. We just need the ship. But I can see that you and yours are pretty busy and heavily under armed." Daisy looked like she was about to protest, but Dante continued quickly. "However. I am prepared to offer _you_ a deal, Daisy. If you give us the ship, then the False Shepard and I go find you some armaments. Sound like a deal?" He put his hand out.

Daisy looked at the outstretched hand and frowned. "I don' take no deals from white boys on faith alone. That kinda faith gets you killed. What reassurance do I have that you'll keep your word?"

"Well, do you happen to know anyone who can supply you with guns?"

Daisy huffed a laugh, standing up and pulling a business card out of her pocket. "You're a smart one, you are. Here. This is Chen Lin. You'll find him in Finkton, and we've already arranged a deal with him, so no bribing necessary. Should be easy. I'll just hold onta the ship until you get back, shall I?"

"Don't I get a say in this?" Booker asked, though his words were ignored.

Dante took the card and looked it over before pocketing it. "Seems fair. Though, could you drop us off? I don't think being pushed out of an airship is the way to get you what you want."

Daisy nodded, not to him but to a man near the console, and the ship changed course. The partners, on the other hand, decided to spend the time converse with each other.

"Where's Elizabeth?" Booker asked.

"Safe, hopefully. She ran out the door when the Vox started to board the ship. I of course have no idea why-most likely she wasn't too pleased with us after finding out we essentially lied to her about Paris."

Booker groaned, running a hand down his face and muttering under his breath. "Ah, great. Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Otherwise we're stuck getting these people their guns. How did those people get on our airship, anyways?"

"My guess? Saw us idling in the air and swooped in to take it. Considering, y'know, this is Comstock's secondary airship, taking it as their own would be seen as a power move and a bonus."

"Point taken. Still, this is gonna take us longer than it should getting her to where she needs to go."

"Where? New York or Paris?"

"I…" Booker sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. Guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"We're planning on crossing a lot of bridges, aren't we?"

Booker shrugged, beginning to walk towards the airship's entrance. "That's the job."

"Pretty crappy job then, isn't it?" Dante scoffed, following him.

"No shit."

"Set down here." Dante turned, but Daisy was looking at the man controlling the airship. The man nodded and made to land. She walked towards the pair, appraising them silently. "Well, here's your stop. You'd best keep your word, or you an' I are gonna have trouble."

"As long as you keep yours, I think we'll be fine," Dante quipped back.

"I like this one," she told another of her followers, who glanced at Dante and chuckled. "Now, get going. I want those weapons as soon as possible. And try not to lead the Founders to his doorstep, eh?"

The two grabbed their carbine and shotgun, stepping towards the door. Daisy stopped them before they could jump out, placing a hand on Dante's shoulder and turning him around.

"Wait just a second, boy," she said, giving him a fierce look. "I got word from Cornelius Slate not a few hours ago. Said he wanted to join the Vox. He said a _kid_ inspired him, an' that if there was one thing he an' I could agree on, it was our hatred of Comstock. Together he n' I are gonna do some great business together. I just wanted to say thanks." She patted him on the back then, hard but not harsh. She turned and went back to her duties, leaving them to find her gunsmith.

Jumping out of the airship, they landed feet first on the loading dock. They turned to see it to fly away as they proceeded towards the work area they appeared to be in. Dante was tempted to jokingly wave, but decided against it at the last second. The two made their way through a sort of outdoor factory. Dante guessed that this must be the manufacturing backbone of Columbia. If so, the environment did not show it being a well paying or at all inspiring place. The workers all moved in unison to the beat of a dull song; whether it was scrubbing the floor, wiping down a vending machine, or hammering a box shut, nobody missed a beat. It reminded Dante of a scene in a movie he had seen a long time ago, though the name and plot escaped him at the moment. It looked an awful like prison workers swinging their pickaxes in time with each other, and the similarities between the two situations was...eerie. Not to mention the motivational posters and the high-pitched, overly fake-enthusiastic voice over the PA system; both had the motivation of a sledgehammer to the knees. Dante curled his lip at it all, and Booker did not seem to be too pleased either. He kept his eyes down as if simply not seeing what was happening made it not exist, but the near deafening sound of the machinery combined with the caphony of the banging of different tools made it hard to ignore. They came across a spilled shipment of Shock Jockey, with one foreman taking notes on a clipboard. Dante spotted an unbroken bottle and swiped it while the worker was jotting down notes. They made their way through past the mess and stopped in front of a set of heavy doors, and once the foreman was out of sight, Dante pulled out the bottle and held it out to his partner.

"Here, swiped this for you. Figured you could use it."

"Thanks." Booker took, uncapped, and downed it in one swig. One very realistic and somewhat painful vision later, and Booker straightened himself out. "Let's go find Elizabeth," he said, reiterating their goal and being surprisingly versatile for someone in his position.

They came across a set of double doors, which they pulled open, just in time to see Elizabeth being thrown off an airship and a dock worker saying, "Get outta here, snipe. You wanna know what we do to pretty little stowaways? Or maybe you don't."

Just as she got up and dusted herself off, she turned to see the two. Her expression was an odd mix of fear, betrayal and relief before she turned and bolted ahead.

"Hey! Just stop for a minute!" Booker yelled out, squeezing past the door with Dante following suit.

"Get away from me! Stay away!"

"We just wanna talk to you!" Booker called out—and though he was too far away, he actually reached out a hand towards her. Dante found himself surprised at the gesture, but whether his surprise was shared with Booker or not would remain a mystery.

"I said stay away!'

"Why is she running?!" Dante yelled, not stopping even as he posed the question. "We never told her we wouldn't take her to Paris, we just said we couldn't land there. What is with her?"

They pursued her vigorously, not stopping even when she knocked over quite a few things in an attempt to trip them, nor did they stop when she summoned a tear our of thin air, though that did put a bit of a damped on their chase. The tear contained balloons from a party, and for some reason whilst stepping through their movements were horribly slowed, allowing her ample time to escape. They waded through the balloons before the tear disappeared. "Elizabeth! Just hold up for a minute! I'm not angry with you," Booker tried again, his tone understanding and even coaxing. Elizabeth, of course, was not fooled.

"Get away from me! Stay away!"

As she ran, she opened another tear, this time causing a marching band to appearing in front of them.

"Hey, watch out! Move it! Move!"

"Stay back!"

Once again Elizabeth opened another tear, this time a speeding train which caused the partners to jump back, Booker especially. He reeled back, thrusting an arm in front of Dante's chest. "Whoa! Goddammit!"

"Thanks." Dante said, the tear disappearing. "Let's go." The two kept up the pursuit before almost cornering her at a wall. Elizabeth glared at the pair before turning around and formed a tear through the wall.

"Don't go in there!" Booker cried, noticing before anyone else the troops on the other side. He started to run towards her, pulling out his gun. The troops were alerted to their presence by his shouting, and so turned around and almost immediately noticed Elizabeth.

"It's her! Call it in, call it in!" one of them yelled, grabbing her by the arm while the other one grabbed his gun and aimed it at her hip, murmuring into his radio with his other hand.

"No! Let me go!"

"We got her!" the first one shouted again, presumably to alert the other soldiers that were no doubt lingering with them.

Before the two had a chance to cross the threshold, the tear closed, a wall now blocking their path.

Booker slammed a fist in the wall in frustration. "There's gotta be another way in."

Dante looked around before spotting a pair of doors right behind them. "This way."

They made their way through another docking and cargo area, where Dante grabbed a sniper from an open crate, they could hear a message being broadcasted via a PA system.

"Requested troops are on their way. Keep close watch... A Handyman will be about to collect her shortly."

They rounded a set of stairs and through some open doors to see Elizabeth and her captors across from them in an elevator.

Elizabeth was still struggling furiously to escape her captors. She kicked, writhed, and tried to scream. The one holding her smacked her across the face, effectively silencing her. "I've had just about enough outta you!"

Dante could feel something well up within him as he lined up his newly acquired sniper with the heads of the Founders. He breathed out as he fired once, the bullet passing through the glass and striking down one of the soldiers. The second one had only a moment to turn before a bullet passed between his eyes too. Shouts were heard as soldiers began coming in from the skyway as well as ones that were already on the ground. Booker took notice and lobbed a few Devil's Kisses at the the Founders, inadvertently causing an oil tank to catch fire and explode, which took out a good chunk of them. Dante made a beeline to the upper level via skyway, taking out the guards that were there before taking position and taking pot shots at the ground troops. After dispatching most of the forces that were already there, an airship came in and dropped off more, in addition to a Founder with a grenade launcher an an automated turret. Dante shot a Possession off at the turret, which turned on the Founder before dispatching the remaining ground troops.

After finishing off the turret, Booker noticed the elevator as he regrouped with Dante. They came across another door, this one much heavier than the last few, and so the both of them opened it together. As they did, Elizabeth opened a tear which brought forth a skyway, which she then promptly took off on. Booker and Dante were once again perplexed, forced to continue their chase whilst calling for her to come back.

"Will you stop already?!"

"Elizabeth, wait!"

Taking the skyway, they finally catch up with her...only to have a giant hand swat the two down and a booming voice yell, " **False Shepherd!** "

Looking up, the two see a large mechanical man dressed in a badly torn blue-gray suit in gorilla-like posture and build. Human body parts were exposed, particularly its head and heart, the latter of which was kept in a fluid-filled glass tank on it's chest attached to several hoses. Thick bundles of cables ran from its shoulders to a pair of conductors on their backs mechanical hands which appeared to be made of porcelain. It's feet were like hobnailed boots, with some bent nails hanging out. In layman's terms, this was the duo first run in with a Handyman. Knowing he'd probably fall to his death, Dante quickly rolled over to the side, only for Booker to be grabbed and thrown toward an elevated storage crate. Knowing he and Booker were vastly under-equipped, Dante took advantage of the Handyman's attempt to kill his partner and dodged past it, getting close to Elizabeth. Before he could even get a word out, a barrel was thrown his way and he was forced to duck. The Handyman threw a giant saw like a frisbee, severing the the cord that elevated the crate causing Booker to fall. Just as he lost his grip, Elizabeth shot her hand out, causing a blimp to come out of a tear, cushioning the PI's fall. For some reason, the mechanical man decided to leave then, but Dante knew it wouldn't be the last time nor the last Handyman they'd fight.

"Hey, so you kind of ditched us for no good reason back there? Not the best time to bring this up, I know, but I figured it was best to clear the air," he asked.

Elizabeth glared at him, a snarl making its way out of her throat. Dante stepped back quickly, cautious. "You both lied to me! I can't believe this. I should have seen it coming-Mr. Dewitt practically _told_ me right before we got on the First Lady! In the gondola….oh, I was so stupid. I can't trust anyone…"

"Well you can trust me, right? I mean I've been nothing but honest for the most part."

Elizabeth scoffs loudly, stepping back and crossing her arms. " _Honest?_ You call lying to and manipulating an innocent to further your own means, and planning to _sell_ her to some unknown buyer _honest_? I would hate to see what you think of as dishonest. Stay away from me, the both of you." She turns to walk away.

"Now wait just a minute. That was Booker's deal, not mine. All I was sent to do is back him up and get you out, so I have a say on where you want to go. In fact," He dug through his pocket and pulled out the telegram that was altered by the twins. "If you don't believe me, here, this should prove it."

She turned back towards him-her curiosity won out over her anger. She walked back and snatched the telegram, eyes widening when she saw the fine print. "Wait, so...so you weren't lying? You were going to take me to Paris...and I ran off." She groaned loudly, handing the message back to him and put her head in her hands. "Oh my God. I can't believe this."

At that moment, Booker appeared in both of their lines of sight, still hanging on the the blimp that Elizabeth had conjured. He felt it prudent to point out his situation, calling loudly, "H-hey! I'm slipping!"

Elizabeth simply raised an eyebrow at that. Dante looked at her expectantly. "I still don't like him," she explained, frowning. "You two may have had proper intentions all along but he's still a thug. Nevertheless," she sighed, holding her hand out for Booker to grab, "I at least am cut from decent cloth. But now we have to find an alternate means of reaching Paris."

"Not quite. We've made an arrangement to get our airship back."

Elizabeth started at that, whirling to face Booker. "You can get us out of here?"

"Yes. We just need to supply enough weapons to arm an entire uprising."

"And where will we get these weapons? From one of our many friends and allies?"

"A gunsmith in Finkton. Should be a walk in the park. What do you say? Partners?"

Elizabeth held out her hand again and shook his firmly before pulling away and offering the same hand to Dante. "Yes, partners. You're also my only means of reaching Paris, after all. But if you ever try to manipulate me again, then I will _personally_ throw you off the nearest building. So don't get too comfortable with my company, Mr. DeWitt."

"Well with all that settled, shall we be on our way?" Dante asked, gesturing to the entrance of the large factory they now stood in front of.

"We shall," she said, and moved past the both of them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

They walked through the doors to be greeted by a golden statue of a family with the words _Your Future is Finkton_ plastered on the bottom. Elizabeth tilted her head as Dante snorted.

"An appealing lie to sucker poor families into working for little to nothing." he commented dryly, ignoring the odd looks he got from the both of them.

They turned the corner, and to the surprise of all but one found a poster advertising their person of interest.

"That would be your gunsmith," Elizabeth said, examining the poster curiously. "Who sent you to find this person?"

"Daisy Fitzroy," Dante commented off-handedly, noting the poster as well. He silently read the made to order services listed under the portrait. "Well, someone keeps busy."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, turning slightly to Booker and talking to the both of them. "She's either a great hero or the worst of scoundrels, depending on who's doing the telling."

Booker was looking elsewhere-his focus was on the Dollar Bill vending machine on the far side of the hallway, and he absently rested his hand on his gun. "If she's good for an airship, I don't care if she's the Queen of Holland."

They made their way past the statue and the poster, stepping into what appeared to be a recruitment station. They passed by a handful of people going through paperwork process-employees, no doubt about it-and another handful who were yelling at an automaton, which stood in between the elevators. There were several guards who were blocking the path, ushering the crowd back as they tried to push past. They were yelling, too, but between the two groups one could not make out any of what they were saying.

" _Welcome to Fink Industries recruitment! We are not looking for any help. You hear that? No help!_ " The automaton was the only thing heard as it announced rather squeakily to the crowd what they no doubt already knew and had probably heard dozens of times by now. Elizabeth sighed heavily, crossing her arms and looking at Dante.

"Fantastic. Now how are we going to get into Finkton?"

"Illegally," Booker butted in, taking the both of them aside away from the crowd that had gathered "Let's look for another way in."

Making sure they didn't catch any of the guards' attention, they moved to the right and down a staircase that lead into the downstairs floors...only to find the doors locked up with gate reinforcing it.

"I got this." Elizabeth said, whipping out a bobby pin from the back of her hair. After a few seconds with fiddling with the lock, it dropped to the floor and the doors swung open. She grinned. "Oh, I love that. Come on." She stood up and walked into the restricted area, beckoning the two of them to follow here. She pointed past the walkway overlooking the area. "Over there, a service elevator. Should take us down to Finkton."

"And get ourselves killed in the bargain," Booker noted dryly, taking notice of the dozen or so armed guards watching over the area.

"Leave them to me. Just make sure to stay out of sight." Dante said, heading down the stairs. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of the guards. "Good day gentlemen!"

"What the hell is he-" Booker began, moving to pull out his gun, but Elizabeth stopped him, putting a finger to her lips and placing a hand on his arm. "Right, right...fine. Follow me, and keep quiet."

"How the hell did you get down here?" one guard asked, adjusting his weapon.

Dante dug through his jacket and pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open. "An internal investigator for Father Comstock himself. He wanted me to make sure everything was shipshape here."

This got the guards a flutter as they either checked their weapons, straightened out their uniforms, or dusted off their arms. "Oh uh, we weren't expecting you sir," one of them, perhaps the captain of this group, said, straightening himself.

"That's the point of an investigation, it's supposed to be unexpected. Now, mind shutting off that Patriot so we don't have an accident?" Dante asked, pointing at the mechanoid.

"Of course sir!" The guard moved over to the robot and flipped something located in it's back as it slumped over. "Now, uh, what is it that Father Comstock wanted to find out?"

"Just making sure that everything is in order, the troops are behaving themselves, doing their jobs, and that you didn't need new men."

"Why would we need new-? Oh! You mean since _he's_ here right?"

"The False Prophet? You don't have to act scared like a bunch of children every time he comes up in conversation. You're men, act like it! The Prophet's finest, here to protect the innocents of Columbia from the man who would lead our precious Lamb astray. If you cannot protect yourselves, then how are you to protect the people? Stand strong."

As he delivered his speech, Elizabeth and Booker made their down down both sets of stairs and managed to get past the guards. Elizabeth breathed a huge sigh of relief when they passed them, untensing slightly as she looked ahead.

"Now all that said, I can say this: I'm disappointed with all of you though for missing a grim detail."

"What? What detail?"

"The Prophet wouldn't have sent me if it wasn't important. Men and equipement aside, would any of you care to guess why he sent me?"

"Uh.." The captain looked at his troops, who all looked as uncertain as he did. He wagered a guess, hoping that it was the correct one. "Because of the False Prophet, sir. He's...displeased that we haven't caught him yet? But sir, my men were only tasked with making sure nobody came through this way...we're protecting the Finkton factory."

"Well your task has changed since the False Prophet was recently _seen_ near Finkton. In fact, last report said he was just outside of the recruitment building. Perhaps you and your men would like to earn our Prophet's favor and take care of him?"

The captain snapped to a salute. "Yes sir! C'mon men, for the Prophet!"

"For the Prophet!"

And with that, the Founders rushed passed the hidden duo, up the stairs and through the doors. Dante followed before shutting the doors behind them, taking out and activating his sonic screwdriver, locking them out.

"Alright, they're gone," he called out, peering over the walkway to search for Booker and Elizabeth. He didn't see them until Elizabeth poked her head around a statue, but she still didn't move. Booker had no such reservations, standing up and stepping out from behind the statue. He looked up at Dante, nodding once.

"Elizabeth, you can come out now. They're gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Elizabeth."

"Okay, okay. I'm coming out."

She did indeed emerge only moments later, straightening her ascot and smoothing down her skirt. She looked around, then looked up at Dante, giving a thumbs up. Once he had come downstairs and joined them, the three of them did a quick search around the area to look for any supplies-they found a few bottles of Salts, some ammo, a handful of Silver Eagles and a couple of Voxaphones (but didn't bother listening to them). Once they finished, they made their way to the elevator that would lead them into the actual Finkton Factory. As they approached the elevator, Elizabeth went off to look at something and Booker took Dante aside.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Convince an entire room of Founders to go on a wild goose chase while posing as a investigator for Comstock."

"Oh," he pulled the wallet from his side pocket and opened it. "Physic paper. Shows you what I want it to show you."

Booker looked at it for a moment before reciting, "'You're a grumpy old man who needs a-' okay, that's enough." He looked at Dante incredulously, unamused. "Very funny. Where did you get this?"

"A gift from my mentor." Dante answered, stuffing the wallet back into his pocket. "Normally use it to bluff my way through situations much like this."

Booker was about to ask who exactly his mentor was when Elizabeth let out a loud gasp from the row of lockers she was standing beside. Both turned to look at her and found her staring at a book in her hand. She looked up, turning the book towards them.

"I found it in Slate's locker. He must have worked here. This is my mother's diary. Why would Slate have it?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead turning the book back towards her and reading aloud a passage. "'My husband claims the child was created from whole cloth by divine will. I am a believer, but I am not a fool. His...bastard...shall not be raised under this roof.'" Her eyes widened at the implication, breathing heavily as she slammed the book shut. "My mother... _she_ had me locked in that tower."

"Elizabeth…" Dante tried, moving towards her, but she turned away, clutching the book to her chest and taking several deep breaths, she held up a hand.

"I _just_ want to get out of this city. Please..."

Shaking his head, he took the book as she held it out, casually flipping through the pages and raising an eyebrow at some of it. He then proceeded to hold the book outward, snap his fingers and set it ablaze before tossing it in the nearest garbage bin. Booker raised an eyebrow while Elizabeth looked dumbstruck.

"Dante!"

"Kid, what the hell?! There was no need for that."

"Yes, there was." Dante turned to Elizabeth, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me, she was not your mother."

"I-what? What are you talking about?"

"What kind of mother would lock their own child up? Let alone in a tower? Maybe Comstock had an affair and passed it off as a miracle birth."

"I-I still don't-" She blinked, confused for a few moments, before stepping away out of Dante's grasp, huffing angrily as she glances at the now completely ruined book. "I greatly appreciate your concerns and your trying to comfort me but I think you're kind of stretching here."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. The point is that she had no say in what happened to you, mother or not. You are not a bastard child, Elizabeth. You are a good person, despite everything that has happened to you and everything you've been through."

"...Thank you. Yeah. Yeah, I-yeah. Yeah. Okay." She took several deep breaths, calming herself before speaking again. "Right. Thank you. Let's-let's go. We need to go, get out of here...Booker…"

Booker nodded, coming to her recuse. He pressed the button to summon the elevator and stepped aside to let the two of them through once it came. The three of them stood in silence, each lost in their thoughts as the elevator descended.

The voice of Jeremiah Fink came over the speaker that was inside the elevator, talking about worker bees and other empty promises and lies. As the PA played, the glass doors of the elevator showed the true nature of daily factory life for the workers. Needless to say, it was downright unfair and near cruel, and a stark contrast to what the voice was currently telling them. Ironic.

As Fink finished his "inspirational" message, the elevator stopped suddenly, which was concerning enough before a ringing was heard from a wall mounted phone. The three looked at each other before Booker walked over and pressed the button on the side of it.

"Ummm...hello?"

" _Mr. DeWitt?_ " A female voice spoke from the other end.

"Uh, yes?"

" _Hold for Mr. Fink, please._ "

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow and coming closer to the phone. She looked at Booker expectantly. She absently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, listening closely.

" _DeWitt? Fink here. Listen, my boy...we had our eye on you, and I can tell you right now, you are our top candidate! Top! My associate Mr. Flambeau will help you with anything, haha._ " And with that, the line went dead and the elevator kept moving. Clearly, Booker was not supposed to have any choice in the matter. He frowned at the silent phone.

"What the hell was that?" Elizabeth asked, smiling slightly.

"I have no idea."

"He seems..oddly pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Hate to say that seems like a bad thing," Dante chipped in. "Considering this guy arms, equips, and builds Comstock's toys."

A moment later, a view of the outside was seen as well as a giant golden statue of who they guessed was most likely Fink. The thing stood probably more than fifty feet

Booker whistled, examining the statue and trying not to look impressed. He hated men like Fink, but that was certainly something.

"Well, the man's got an ego," Elizabeth commented, tilting her head to the side as if that would somehow change her perspective.

"You think he's compensating for something?" Dante chuckled.

Elizabeth frowned, turning to Dante with a confused expression. "Like what?"

Dante opened his mouth to answer but fortunately for everyone, the elevator _dinged_ at that exact moment, signaling that it had reached its destination. The three waited until the doors slid open before stepping out, finding a man with display table standing in front of a set of doors.

"Mr. DeWitt, welcome to Finkton. You'll find a variety of supplies here that should see you through your visit." He gestured to the table which had two Salt bottles, a purse of Silver Eagles, a lockpick set and a Paddywhacker similar to Dante's, as well as spare ammo for the weapon.

"Flambeau, I assume?" Dante asked, grabbing and uncorking one of the bottles before downing the contents but passing the second one to Booker who followed suit. The man said nothing, but nodded in reply-if he was at all bothered by Dante and Elizabeth's added presence, he did not show it, retaining the same stoic face throughout their entire interaction.

"What does Mr. Fink want with us?" Elizabeth asked as she grabbed the silver eagles and spare ammo for the pistol. She adjusted her bandoleer as she stored the items, taking extra care that she had enough room for everything.

"Excuse me, miss, but Mr. Fink's interest is strictly in the gentleman." He was curt, but not explicitly rude, something that seemed to be a rarity here. She tried again despite his rebuff.

"But why-"

"So sorry, young miss. But any questions regarding the gentleman's application should be taken up with Mr. Fink directly." With that said, Flambeau stepped aside and opened the doors for the three. As they stepped through, the doors closed behind them as they looked at what were crude store fronts as well as construction going on. In front of them was a podium where some kind of auction was going on, possibly for jobs? None of them spared it more than a cursory glance and listen.

"Does this strike you as good news?" Elizabeth asked. "It doesn't strike me as good news." She took some time to look at her surroundings before asking, "What do you think? Head to the gunsmith or scavenge supplies by that clock shop?"

"I vote clock shop," Dante said.

"Let's make it fast then." Booker replied as the three made their way towards the general direction of the shop. Passing through what seemed to be a crude laundromat, they found an odd red tear in one of the buildings. Elizabeth made like she was going to open it, so Booker pulled her back to almost behind himself, to which she protested until they heard the music coming from the strange Tear.

" _Some folks are born made to wave the flag_

 _Ooh, they're red, white and blue_ "

"Here that? Music. It's coming through that tear."

"I never heard that song before."

"I don't suspect anyone's heard that song."

Dante could've said something, sure, but choose not to for the sake of the fact that this was 1912 and that song wasn't composed for another fifty seven years. It also pained him a bit not to tell him since, well, he was a fan of rock. 'Maybe if and when I tell them the truth.' He thought to himself as they exited the building. But as they did, a familiar bellowing was heard.

"Oh, no…" Booker groaned, grabbing his gun shortly before the ground shook, causing all three of them to almost fall over.

" **False Shepard!** "

A Handyman, no, the _very same_ Handyman who had assaulted the partners not just an hour ago had arrived to once again make the trio's trial more difficult than it already was. Nearby workers and guards had already scrambled into cover or inside buildings. Elizabeth ran to some nearby cover that was in view of, but not directly inside, the combat zone. Dante whipped out his weapon of choice and aimed it at the creature's head, firing off a couple of shots before he was mercilessly swatted away. Booker peppering the cyborg with machine gun rounds, but to no effect, as the behemoth just backhanded him in to a wall. Thankfully Dante was able to recover enough to shoot a bolt of Shock Jockey as well as a flock of crows. This combo actually worked in distracting and harming the mechanized man as it swatted above it's head, yelling and groaning while Booker got his second wind as well. He decided to toss a volley of Devil's Kiss backed with a hail of bullets from his machine gun aimed at the glass containing its heart. The Handyman cried out in pain as it charged at Booker, kicking up dust behind it. Booker moved out of the way as it crashed into the wall the PI was thrown at, stumbling out as it tried to regain its footing. This was its last mistake as Dante whipped out his Hand Cannon and aimed at the center of its heart, firing off six shots at the container before it shattered and the heart exploded. The Handyman fell, shaking the ground once more as it fell dead to the ground.

Dante let his arm drop to his side and sighed in relief, beginning to empty and reload the chamber of his gun with ammo. "Elizabeth?" he called out, snapping the barrel closed in one swift motion. He looked up when she didn't answer, searching the immediate area for any sign of where she might be. "Elizabeth?"

This time, Elizabeth poked her head out from behind wherever she had been hiding for the past few minutes. "He's gone?"

"Yeah, kid. You can come out now," Booker himself called, grunting when the action caused him pain. He held a hand to his ribs, feeling for damage and hissing when he touched a bruised spot on his lower left. "Damnit. Dante, do we have anymore med kits?"

"I have one here, Mr. DeWitt," Elizabeth called, tossing it to him. "You're welcome. Do you need any help with it?"

"No, no, I got it." Booker responded, taking out a roll of gauze and wrapping it around his waist. "I'm suspecting that won't be the last of them," he mentioned to Dante.

"If Fink was showing one off earlier during the fair, no, it won't." Dante replied, nursing a bruise of his own on the back of his head. "Let's just find Chen Lin as soon as possible so we can get our airship back."

They walked around before coming across a building. "Here it is. " _Chen Lin, Gunsmith._ Wonder if he's home."

"I suppose we're about to find out," said Elizabeth, walking past the both of them and pushing open the door. They walked through what seemed to be the front desk/storefront before pushing through another set of doors, finding a very large furnace with moderate to large piles of coal surrounding it. While the raging fire could be easily heard, the place itself was disturbingly quiet.

"I don't like this." Booker switched from his machine gun to his pistol, Dante doing the same. They moved up a flight of stairs before finding a shrine with a statue of a heavy set man smiling.

"I've read about this...that's Gautama Buddha."

"Who?"

"The founder of Buddhism. He spent 49 days under a Bodhi tree until he achieved enlightenment."

"Something tells me Comstock doesn't cater to idols getting worshipped that ain't him."

"Pretty apparent since they basically took the Bible and most of the Old Testament and altered all the prophet stuff. They obviously made them all Comstock and the Founding Fathers," Dante commented, which earned him an odd look from the other two. "My mom sent me to church as a kid," he explained. "I stopped going when I was old enough to form my own opinions. Still got my back porch painted red, though. I just feel like religion should be an option and not something that's forced...That aside, let's find the gunsmith. I'm sure he's upstairs."

The three made their way up the final set of stairs, only to find that the final floor was deserted. The machines were there, for certain, but nobody was attending to them, and in fact some of them had a slight layer of dust on them. It was apparent that no one had been here for some time. Dante looked around for a light source of some sort but gave up fairly quickly.

"So...I think it's safe to say he's not here. Dante, Mr. DeWitt, what now? We can't go back empty handed."

It was then that sobbing was heard from downstairs. The three looked at each other, contemplating whether or not to check it out, before Elizabeth dashed down the stairs before either of them could stop her. Booker swore loudly and ran after her, barely catching up to her in time. Dante followed the both of them, elbowing his way to the front of the group when they all stopped. In front of them was a short woman of Chinese descent, clasping her hands together in prayer and sobbing quietly. She was whispering something to herself, but nobody save for Dante could understand what she was saying. He decided to try his luck here, stepping up to the woman and beginning a conversation as the other two watched in amazement.

"Nǐ shì chén lín de qī zi ma? Wǒ hé wǒ zài zhè li de péng you lái dào zhè li, qǐng qiú tā de bāng zhù."

"Jǐng fāng! Tā men lái bǎ tā dài dào...Hǎo shí jiān jù lè bù jiǔ bā!"

"Xiè xiè , wǒ men huì bǎ nǐ zhàng fu zhǎo huí lái de, suǒ yǐ bié dān xīn."

"Thank you." The lady thanked in english and the three departed. They walked down the stairs before Dante turned to see Booker look confused while Elizabeth had shock and awe written on her faces. "She said the cops took him to the Good Time Club for questioning-you're staring at me?"

"You...you speak Mandarin Chinese? Do you speak any other languages?" Elizabeth asked, eyes wide.

"Oui." Dante answered. "Je peux parler français aussi."

Elizabeth gasped in delight, her eyes shining as seh nearly jumped up and down in excitement. Booker raised an eyebrow behind her, but she took no notice. "Oh, wow, that is amazing. Erm—wait, wait...uh, oui, je parle français. C'est bien que vous puissiez aussi."

Dante grinned back at her, wanting to continue their conversation before Booker stepped in and ruined their fun. "Alright, this has all been very fun, but we need to get going, so quit stalling, the both of you, and let's get out of here. I doubt the Founders will keep him alive for long."

"Fine, fine. Allons-y!"

 _ **XxxxxxxX**_

After exiting the gun shop and dispatching some guards, the trio made their way to the club in question. It looked perfectly fine from the outside, but looks were often deceiving, especially in Columbia. Before they entered the establishment, Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on Booker's forearm, causing him pause. He looked at her curiously.

"Look, I don't much care for you, Mr. DeWitt...but I must admit, you know your way around a brawl. I'm sorry about what I said at the dock."

He scoffed, removing her hand and turning away, moving to push the door open. A blast of warm air hit them as they entered the establishment. "Yeah? Can't see how I might've changed your sense of that."

"You protected me," Elizabeth defended, but Booker just shook his head, waving her words away.

"Job's a job. Now we just need to head inside and find Mr. Lin...and, just...call me Booker."

The establishment itself was...shady, to say the least. It didn't feel right the moment they walked in. The lobby looked nice enough-there was soft carpet under their feet and bright lights up above their heads, dimmed so that their slightly orange light shown softly on the trio. There were leather benches dotted around the area, and an abandoned violin case rested against one of them. It looked abandoned, but also...not, something which unnerved our heroes.

An automaton stood in the center of all this, propped against a wall ahead of them. It was encased in glass-no doubt the bulletproof kind, as it held a few marks. " _Welcome to the Good Time Club, sir or madam! Where the lions roar! The show is about to begin!_ " It's greeting was far too cheery for the atmosphere the club provided, which made the whole situation creepier. It was not long before Fink's voice was heard on the PA system.

" _Ah, DeWitt, my boy! You know, the best kind of interview is one where the applicant doesn't know he's being evaluated! Hahaha! But, I've watched you since the other day at the lottery. Heh heh...you're a brute! And in times like this, I could use a brute!_ "

"What do you want, Fink?"

" _Why, labor unrest is coming, DeWitt! Heh heh. Now, Fitzroy has got the jungle all riled up. A man like me could have use for an old Pinkerton like you._ "

They entered the balcony and moved forward, stopping when they saw a whole stage and bar area typical of your usual club. However, the decor of this one was strangely...upper class. It looked far too nice to be in a place like Shantytown. Then again, it could be meant for the higher ups of the working class. But, like the lobby, the place looked empty-indeed, it seemed that no one had been there for a while.

"Let's find Chen Lin and get the hell out of here."

Just as Booker spoke, the lights went dim and a screen lowered in front of the stage with a projection of Fink's face on it. Another thing of note was a large box rising from the front of the stage's runways, and as the trio looked at that one two more rose near the back of the stage. Clearly, this was not a sign of good things to come.

" _Now, now! All I ask is that you finish what you started, DeWitt. Wouldn't want to disappoint the other applicants! Our first candidate is a veteran of Peking...now what's that they say about old soldiers? Hahahaha! Frankly, my money's on you... He's something of an old hand at handling explosives...only man I know who hasn't, heh heh, lost a limb working with them. Yet._ "

With that very dramatic ending line, the curtains in the back of the stage rose as a handful of Founders began pouring out and opening fire. As If the situation were not dire enough, the trio soon found out they were to be pitted against another Fireman.

"Well." Dante pulled back the slide on his carbine, pointing it at the stage. "Let's get to work."

" _Heh heh, yes! Yes! Quite the eager beaver, isn't he. We're getting excellent results!_ "

And so the fighting began with Elizabeth taking cover behind one of the upstair bars(managing to scavenge supplies), while Booker jumped off the balcony to the floor below and Dante provided covering fire from above. What resulted was about a five minute shootout consisting of trading shots, vigor usage, and dead Founders with the two fighters taking down the Fireman who promptly dropped dead. After getting a fresh supply of bullets and salts from Elizabeth, Fink's voice came up once again. This time a spotlight centered on the box at the end of the runway as crow's began settling on top of it.

" _Now this young go-getter is a former devotee of Laaa-dddy Comstock. But, without the old gal, they just don't know quite what to do with themselves! Picked this one up at the Hiring Fair..for a song!_ "

The crows began circling before forming into a Crow, wielding a sword and shouting zealotus profanities as he charged at the heroes, backed up by more Founders. Dante pointed his gun at the Crow, getting a few shots in before the figure dissipated and moved away. He decided to draw his focus on the backup, taking potshots and throwing a Possession here and a charged Devil's Kiss there. Booker primarily focused on the Crow, despite the shots coming from the Founders. He moved around every so often, baiting the Crow and luring him nearer before shooting him or parrying his sword with his skyhook. Taking a few seconds less then the fight with the Fireman, the backup were all dead and the Crow was on its last leg. Hefting his sword one last time before being blasted point blank with a shotgun Booker had received from Elizabeth. As they replenished their supplies, the voice of Fink was once again heard on the PA.

" _Now, enough of the opening acts! Your true rival is an expert with the automata...wants to replace all our security with machines! I'll give the old boy credit, though: it would be fewer mouths to feed! Hahahaha! That's it! That's it! Why, that sort of ambition, my boy, will serve you well at Fink Industries! My, my, my! Quality work!_ "

The boxes near the back of the stage opened to reveal two automated turrets as well as two mosquito drones. The machines opened fire as the third box opened to reveal a Patriot. Dante jumped down the floor and shot out a Possession out to a one of the turrets, which changed its fire onto a mosquito drone. Booker saw this and took by example, tossing his own Possession towards the other drone which opened fire on the Patriot. With two of the five automatons distracting the other three, resulting in both being destroyed but three out of the two being damaged, the two destroyed the last drone and turret before focused their fire on the remaining Patriot. After pumping one clip of carbine bullets, three shotgun slugs, and a bolt of Shock Jockey, the mechanoid fell. As the three regrouped on the stage, once again, Fink's voice was heard as sparklers went off on the runway.

" _Congratulations, DeWitt! You know, when your name was first passed to me, I wasn't quite sure you were the man for the job, heh heh! But now, I can say with certainty that I was quite wrong!_ "

"I'm not interested in your job, Fink!"

" _Now, now, I know all about your little job for Fitzroy. But do you really want to take her job over mine? Do you know how many people would kill to be Head of Fink Security? Oh I've heard of this one. I've heard both Slate and FItzroy have taken a liking to you, boy. Well, come work for me, and you both will have far more benefits than would ever would working for them!_ "

Dante just flipped off the screen and replied, "Go to hell Fink!"

Fink didn't retort but just laughed. " _You're tough nuts to crack! Tough nuts! But, I promise you this…_ " His voice then shifted to dead seriousness. " _I will get what I want._ "

Dante rolled his eyes and Booker snorted in disbelief. He nodded to Elizabeth, who emerged from her hiding place holding a bottle of Salts, and after rejoining the group, she offered it Booker, who shook his head. "I'm good on Salts-Dante?"

"Sure, why not?" He took the bottle and chugged it down before tossing it aside. "Now if I were a betting man, I would bet that if we went backstage we'd find something that would be mighty useful to us."

Booker nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Let's get to it."

Hopping on the stage and passing through the dressing room, they went through a set of doors and headed downstairs. Before turning the corner into the next room, they heard a pair of voices talking.

One voice said, "C'mon, Frannie, you're a modern woman - it's nineteen twelve!"

"It's gonna be two thousand twelve before I'm interested in one like you," the other replied frostily.

Booker motioned for Elizabeth to stay behind as he and Dante snuck up on the two guards, holding their pistols barrel first. Doing a silent countdown, the two swung their weapons at the back of the guards' heads as they both collapsed to the ground. Each grabbed a respective guard and dragged them into a corner of the room, laying them against the wall.

Proceeding forward, they come across a blackboard describing prisoner setups.

Elizabeth stopped in front of a large blackboard, detailing the cell numbers and which prisoners were in which cells. After a moment, she pointed to one of the names, turning to the other two. "Look! _Chen Lin, cell number 9._ "

"Huh. Well, that's convenient," Dante commented, looking at the board himself.

Booker raised an eyebrow, elbowing past the two of them. "Well, great, we know where he is. Let's go ahead and get there, so we can get our damn airship back."

Right in front of the blackboard was a locked door which Elizabeth immediately took to work on unlocking.

"Hmm... I used to work for folks like Fink." Booker commented offhandedly. He didn't look back at either of them when they looked at him, curious as to what he meant and how much he would share.

"Really?" Elizabeth asked after a moment, turning back to her lockpicking.

"I was with the Pinkertons. They'd call us in when the workers got restless."

"To do what?"

"Demonstrate the folly of men striking, throwin' down tools."

"You hurt people…" Elizabeth did not sound surprised, but she did sound sad; and the look on her face was of an unclarified emotion. She continued to work on the lock, and as Booker answered they heard the clicking of the lock as it almost opened.

"I'll tell you this: sometimes there's precious need for folks like Fitzroy."

"Why?"

"Because of folks like me."

The lock clicked open, falling apart and to the floor with a metal _clang._ Elizabeth remused her standing position, and they opened the doors to find themselves standing in a disposal room with posters of propaganda and complaints littered near a furnace. It was just then the door at the opposite side of the room as two Founders stepped out. Before they could let out word, Booker and Dante un-holstered their pistols and shot the pair dead. Being mindful of the bodies, they walked into the next room which was both a projection and interrogation room. A chair and a table with a set of bloodied tools on with a camera pointed at it on one side of room, meanwhile a projection and screen was on the other side.

Elizabeth went near the projector and flipped the switch. A film started playing of Lin's interrogation. The man in question looking like he was lynched by a mob.

" _Tell us what you know about Fitzroy, you goddamn gook! We know you can hear us! You wanna say something? Or you want us to bring in Mrs. Lin for company?_ " One guard, off screen, clearly enjoyed taunting the battered, bleeding, and bruised man. The man himself said nothing-whether this was due to loyalty or because he was too broken to speak, the film did not reveal.

" _Eh...throw a cold bucket of ice water on him, we got three more to bring in tonight,_ " another off screen guard commented, and on that very ominous note the film ended, leaving the trio in shocked silence.

They continued into the next room, a mass of shared jail cells, where a foul stench greeted their senses. Elizabeth recoiled in disgust, bringing her hand to her nose. "Ugh...what's that smell?"

"Ain't no privies down here." Booker said nonchalantly, his brow furrowing in an effort to ignore the smell. Dante, who had seen and smelled far worse, was not unduly concerned, though it still smelled awful.

"They treat them like animals," Elizabeth realized, horrified. She looked around her and shook her head, and when she spoke next it sounded as though her voice had a wobbly edge to it, at though she were about to cry. "What could people have done to deserve to be locked up in a place like this?"

"Fink doesn't need much of a reason, I would guess," Dante commented.

"No...no he doesn't."

It was then that Dante took notice of a guard down the hallway whose back was turned to them. Signaling for the other two to be silent, he proceeded to sneak up behind him before putting the guard in a chokehold. After a few seconds, the guard's struggling ceased as Dante then placed the man up against the wall. They walked further down the corridor before coming across a door with the number nine above it-Chen Lin.

"This is it, isn't it?'

"Yep, number nine."

The door opened as it showed this cell was multi leveled. As they began going down the stairs, who's voice should be heard but…

" _DeWitt...kid...you're both lions. But you can't blame me for looking after my own interests, can you? Now, I know Fitzroy has come calling...but I think you'll both find your business with her has come to an end, heh heh. Lions walk with lions, not hyenas!_ "

The trio looked at each other, a sense of dread overcoming them as they double timed it down the stairs. Once they reached the ground floor, the lights were out, the only thing lit was a switch on the far wall. Booker went over and pressed it, the lights coming back on which revealed Lin's corpse sitting in a chair with blood covering the floor around it. Elizabeth gasped and turned away, Dante comforting her.

Booker turned the chair, causing the body slumped to the side. "We're too late, goddamnit…"

"Fink...this is what he meant…" Elizabeth sounded horrified, her voice choked with tears as she held a hand to her mouth. She stepped back from the body, allowing Dante to reach him.

Dante's expression was grim. He had of course known that this was going to happen, but to actually experience the events himself...sad to say he's seen worse but it was still not pleasant in the least. "Now we need to find someone else to make those guns."

"No." Elizabeth straightened her stance, not looking at Chen Lin but at Dante. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and her mouth formed a defiant line on her face.

"Dead is dead, Elizabeth," he tried, but Elizabeth shook her head and was about to speak again when she was interrupted.

"Dead is dead," a voice spoke, causing the three to look towards the way they came. It was (unknowingly, of course, to Booker and Elizabeth) Robert and Rosalind Lutece, the former holding up a coin.

"What? ...The hell did...?" Booker stutterd out.

"You'll get used to it," Dante offered offhandedly, eyeing the Luteces.

"I see...heads," the female spoke, holding up a coin. It glittered in the bright spotlight as she turned it around.

"And I see tails," the man offered, not taking the coin from her but studying it all the same.

"It's all a matter of perspective," the female continued, not bothering to look at whom she was speaking to-whomever that was.

"Why are you following us? Who sent you, Comstock? What do you want from-" Booker tried to make sense of these two but was hushed by Dante.

"Let them finish," he whispered, side-eying him. Booker pressed his lips together in a menacing line, but didn't say anything else.

"What do you see here, from this angle?" the man asked, taking the coin at last from his female counterpart. He flipped it around, making it so that it caught the light in a nearly blinding way.

"Dead," the female responded, as is this were simply a math test and not a matter of quantum physics.

"And that angle?"

"Alive."

Elizabeth gasped. "Booker...Chen Lin…"

Booker moved to the side as he sees a tear enveloping the corpse. "The body's gone."

"It was never here," the man said, arching a thin eyebrow as both finally turned to look at the trio.

Booker's eyes widened as he realized what this implied. He made to touch the tear but then thought better of it, retracting his hand quickly. "It's another Columbia…"

"A different Columbia," Elizabeth reiterated, looking in awe at the tear as well.

"The same coin," the female said, looking at the coin in her partner's hand and tilting her head.

"A different perspective," he continued, flipping the coin in his palm.

"Heads."

"Tails."

"Dead."

"Alive."

"We have to go through...to this other Columbia," Booker surmised, ignoring their nonsensical bickering. "But...how?"

"It's like riding a bicycle," the man explained vaguely.

"One never really forgets," the woman agreed.

"One just needs the courage to climb aboard." With this parting note, the light above the pair flickered violently, and the two vanished once again.

Elizabeth reached out to touch the tear but held herself back. "If we go into this tear...I don't think I'll be able to bring us back. Are you two sure you're ready?"

There was a silent pause throughout the room, the three debating on if they should proceed into the different Colombia. Once they went, there was no going back. It was Dante who finally spoke up, shifting the carbine in his hand. "I was getting tired of this place anyway. Let's see what this other Colombia can offer us. Who knows, maybe it's less...Columbia."

Booker sighed, resigning himself to his already incredibly screwed up fate. "Okay, open it."

Elizabeth nodded as she grabbed at the air around the tear, grunting as she made a pulling motion. This caused the tear to become bigger before a flash of light blinded the two as they shielded their eyes. When they opened their eyes, instead of an torture room, they found themselves surrounded by boxes of confiscated weapons...Vox weapons. Crates of them littered the area, piled onto the table and bunched around the floor. Another thing to note was the massive amount yelling that was coming from above them, but was muffled. It was then Dante noticed that Elizabeth looked drain.

"Hey, you alright?" She didn't respond but instead her knees buckled as she fell backwards. Thinking fast, Dante caught her before she hit the ground. "Elizabeth! Are you-?" When he looked down at her face, he saw she was fast asleep.

Booker rushed over to the two, a look of concern lining his face. "Is she-?"

"She's fine," Dante confirmed, hefting Elizabeth into a bridal pose, her head cradled under his. "Opening the tear must've done a number on her. We need to find a place to rest, just for a while, then I'm sure she'll be fine. Come on."

Booker sighed, starting to feel the strain of the day's events catching up to him. "Alright. Lord knows how long we've been on the move. Catching a wink for a spell wouldn't hurt, could it? The damn city's still gonna be on our tails in a few hours."

Dante nodded, carrying Elizabeth over to a corner of the room. Just as he set her down, she clutched at his arm. "Songbird...don't...leave me," she murmured in her sleep. Dante sighed, but Booker straightened immediately.

"Songbird? What's she talking about? Is he coming?"

"Relax, she's just dreaming. Look, if you want to stand guard go ahead. I'll keep her company."

Booker nodded in agreement before moving a few feet and sat down with his back against the wall, his machine gun in hand and shotgun at his side. Dante, on the other hand, sat next to Elizabeth who nuzzled up against his shoulder. Smiling at the gesture, he simply adjusted himself against the wall and closed his eyes, letting his body rest.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

An hour had passed before Dante woke from his small power nap. He straightened out his back, wincing when he heard a pop, which in turn caused Elizabeth to wake up, whom also looked around and noticed that she was hanging on his shoulder.

"Morning." He smirked, letting the girl gather her surroundings whom couldn't help but blush a bit before asking, "Wha-? What happened?"

"You pulled us through the tear. The one to the world where Chen Lin's alive. At least...I think you did."

Elizabeth looked confused for a moment before remembering, and her expression cleared as she nodded. The two got up from the floor, straightening out their clothes and stretching their limbs. "Where's Booker?" Elizabeth asked as she adjusted her bandolier.

"Right here." The PI appeared from under the stairwell. "Been keeping guard, but now that you two are done with your nap, let's see if the gunsmith is alive."

"Of course," Dante replied, though he started eyeing the crates of weapons. "But let me see if I can find a new gun. Carbine is fine and all, but with the noise going on upstairs and lord knows what else is going on outside, I'd like to a weapon that has a bit more _pep_ to it."

Booker gestured at the crates obligingly. "Be my guest, just don't take too long."

He looked over at the table and saw that it had a box of the Vox's take on the average Colombia machine gun—the Repeater. Ammo would be plentiful, but this one had its disadvantages. It burned through ammo at a faster rate, had a smaller clip, and a piss poor rate of fire. 'Gonna have to switch to either a shotgun or regular machine gun later on.' Dante thought before grabbing the rifle and sliding the bolt back, letting a fresh round go into the chamber before hefting it to waist level. "Let's get a move on."

Elizabeth made sure to grab two extra magazines before the three went back up the stairs. It was then that they started to notice things that weren't present the first time they walked through. Mainly, the fact that there were more prisoners in the cells, and who now were members of the Vox. The three could hear the revolutionary advocates crying for their release, pounding on the walls and hanging their fists outside of the bars that held them in their cells. They proceeded forward into the torture/projector room. This time, someone had left the film playing, but as the trio watched, they realized that it showed a different outcome from what they'd seen previously . " _Daisy Fitzroy. C'mon, you piece of shit. Tell me about Daisy-"_ the first guard threatened the beaten man, only to be interrupted by his partner. " _Cut him loose."_

" _What?"_

" _Scofield says cut him loose. They're bringing his tools to the lockup. That'll keep him clean, I guess."_ " _Why?"_ the first man, obviously not pleased with being deprived of his opportunity to shed some blood, spit out. " _What are you, the Columbia Gazette? The chink's wife got friends in high places. Come on, we need the cell."_

The film ended there, the camera resting on Chen Lin's bloodied but still very much alive face. soon as it did, Booker took a step back, uncomprehending. "I don't understand how Chen Lin is alive now," he informed the both of them, frowning.

"We're in a world where he was never murdered. Somewhere we'll find out why, I suppose." Elizabeth answered with absolute certainty, as fi this were not her first time bringing a dead man back to life.

"I don't suspect you can change something like that and have everything else remain the same."

They entered the club floor, now filled with enemies as the spotlight shown on them and Fink's voice yelled, " _What is going on here, Sansmark? As my head of Security, I suspect you'll want to find out how these two slipped past your men, and what they were doing in the basement!"_

Throwing out a Bucking Bronco, the two managed to elevate most of the enemies in the room before shooting them down. The remaining few that stood didn't last long as they were dispatched quickly. As they were scavenging for extra ammo, Salts and Silver Eagles, Dante pondered out loud to himself, "Sansmark?"

"What was that?" Booker asked, looking up from scavenging some shells for his shotgun.

"Fink hired that Sansmark guy as his head of security. I'm guessing that that means he isn't offering you the job anymore."

"Your point?" Booker replied sulkily, glaring at the other man.

"Well, maybe that's evidence that we _are_ in another world."

Booker just shook his head in dismay. "' _Another world'..._ This whole business makes my head hurt."

"You'll get used to it," Dante replied cheekily, not bothered by the unfriendly glare sent his way.

Our heroes stepped outside, only to find more Founders in their way. One firefight later, they were able to make their way back and inside the workshop. When they walked in everything more or less looked the same-save for one small detail.

"Do you hear anything?" Elizabeth questioned, tilting her head to the side curiously. She looked up at the ceiling, frowning.

Booker looked at her, confused. "Huh?"

"No machines. No tools. Listen."

Sure enough, the trio stood absolutely still and listened, they realized that there was no sound aside from the burning of the furnace. Not even the sound of footsteps walking across the wooden floors was heard-never a good sign.

"Let's go find that gunsmith. Maybe he's upstairs now," Booker said with a hopeful air, though none of them actually believed it.

They made their way upstairs, but stopped when they came across the small corner from before. "The shrine...it's a figure of Comstock now." Elizabeth pointed out—sure enough, the statue of Buddha was replaced by a bust of Comstock. They made their up to the top floor and find Chen Lin who seemed...off. Not only was he walking around an empty area like he was working but where there was no tools around, but his face seemed distorted and his nose was bleeding.

"Um, Mr. Lin? Chen Lin? 'Scuse me, Chen Lin?" Booker spoke, trying to get the man's attention.

"Who are you? You speak up! Speak up! Can't hear you over all these machines! Very loud!" The man replied-Elizabeth found at that last bit, since it didn't make much sense since there were no machines around.

Booker tried his luck again, to no avail. "I'm Booker DeWitt-"

"Stand back! These machines very dangerous. Wait downstairs with Mrs. Lin."

Not wanting to seem like a wallflower, Dante decided to speak up. "Daisy Fitzroy sent us. We need to talk to you about getting some weapons."

"Machines very dangerous. No place for stupid people. Want to lose pretty head?" The man insisted, ignoring anything any of them whenever they tried to speak.

"Mr. Lin-"

"Downstairs!" he yelled, annoyed, before going back to "work."

"What is wrong with him?" Booker wondered aloud, looking back incredulously as they headed back downstairs.

"Remember him dead in that cell? Maybe in some way he remembers that, too. How would you reconcile that?" Elizabeth asked, as if they all were semi-omnipresent beings and knew exactly what she was asking.

"Good point," Dante, who was something of the sort himself, added in. "Knowing that you died only to be alive...I mean, wouldn't _you_ be a bit out of sorts, too?"

Before either could respond, they heard the sound of talking, from the landing. It sounded like someone praying at the shrine. Going around the corner, they found a woman there-but it wasn't the same woman as before. This woman was Caucasian, with honey-colored hair wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head and wearing a crisp white dress. Her hands were clasped together in prayer, seemingly not noticing the intruders to her home.

"Heal my husband," she whispered to the shrine as they approached, cautious but curious. "Calm his troubled thoughts. Ease his burden. Bring Chen Lin back to me..."

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for Mrs. Lin," Booker asked, accidentally interrupting her prayer somewhat rudely.

"I'm Mrs. Lin," the woman replied, turning from the shrine and to them. If she was bothered or insulted by their presence she did not show it, instead trying to smile politely but failing.

"No, I mean a little Chinese lady. She was-"

"Booker. This _is_ Mrs. Lin," Elizabeth told him, gesturing to the woman, who looked confused at the conversation but didn't mention it.

"They took Chen's tools," she told them instead, and her voice was wobbly, as if she were about to burst into tears. "What's he got without his tools?"

"Well, your husband is a bit out of sorts." Booker commented, scratching the back of his head. Elizabeth glared at him, trying but failing to step on his toe for being what she deemed rude, but Mrs. Lin just nodded in agreement.

"If he could work again, maybe...i-if he could work, he'd-"

"Mrs. Lin," Dante cut in, not wanting Booker to seem more insensitive than he's already been. He supposed Booker was somewhat unused to dealing with people in stress-at least in a delicate fashion. "Can you tell me who took your husband's tools?" he asked gently.

"Goddamn police," she spat, clenching her fists at her side. "They took them and locked them up, in the impound in Shantytown. If you're aiming to help return them, we'd both be so grateful. I'm afraid we don't have much, so we wouldn't be able to really make it up to you, but-"

"Don't worry about payment, we'll help you all the same." Dante reassured.

Mrs. Lin smiled, and this time it came easily, though it was still pained. "Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. That's wonderful, I-I'm sorry….I need to be alone right now. But thank you again." She dug out a handkerchief from somewhere and held it to her eyes as she turned back to the shrine. Elizabeth patted her gently on the shoulder before gesturing to the both of them to follow her out.

As they made their way out, Elizabeth asked, "Is she right? Would having his tools back fix his mind?"

"Who cares," Booker grunted. "We're not getting any guns if Chen Lin doesn't have his tools. Let's head to Shantytown."

"Okay. Not sure if you noticed, by the way, but Lin had a bloody nose." She sighed, moving a strand of hair behind her ear and looking back at the shop worriedly. "This tear...I'm not so sure it was a good idea."

They got outside before once again running into opposing Founders, whom they dispatched easily. Elizabeth huffed as she emerged from her chosen hiding spot and rejoined the group.

"I really wish that we could go somewhere in peace for once. If I never see another Founder or Vox member again it'll be too soon. I'll be happy once we're out of Columbia."

They passed through the doors at the Shantytown entrance, pulling a lever, before waiting for the cargo to move.

"If you want to ask me, ask me."

"About what?" The two asked simultaneously.

Elizabeth huffed a laugh at that, grabbing her hand and squeezing her thimble covered pinky. "My finger."

Booker started stumbling over his words as Dante just shifted uncomfortably.

"It's alright," she calmed them both, smiling nervously. "It's as much a mystery to me as anyone else. Maybe Songbird knows, but he's not talking."

Dante snorted before covering his mouth. "Uh, sorry."

"What for? I get to wear this stylish thimble to cover up my hideous deformity. I hear they're all the rage in Paris," she said slyly, smirking at Dante.

As the conversation ended, the cargo moved revealing a pair of doors. They walked through...only to see more Founders waiting for them. All the trio could do was roll their eyes and groan in annoyance. Elizabeth dashed to the side, finding a nice hiding spot while Dante and Booker tackled the horde. One horde of Founders dealt with later, they made their way into the small station that led to the housing area. Dante spotted the armory but noted that it was locked and along with new vigor that was behind the gate. Thankfully, there was a shotgun stashed right next to the gate so he swapped his current weapon for it, checking to make sure he had shotgun ammo beforehand. The three got inside the elevator, it starting its descent after the button was hit.

It was a few seconds later before Elizabeth spoke. "You must think me some sort of...freak. A girl who can bring dead men back to life...whose only acquaintance is a...giant bird creature. I must seem ridiculous," she lamented sadly, not looking at either of them as she hugged herself tightly.

"Elizabeth, you are anything but a freak. You're kind, smart, and your powers make you indescribably unique." Dante spoke with conviction and truth in his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Booker nodding in approval before speaking himself.

"Elizabeth, he's right. I haven't known you for long, I'll admit, but from what I've seen you are so much more than that."

"Like what?"

Booker was at a lost for words, for once, as although he had much he wanted to say he couldn't find a way to phrase it. Dante, on the other hand, simply said, "You're a good person, which in this day and age is hard to find." He left it at that, but he could see the tension releasing in Elizabeth's shoulders as she relaxed her death-like grip on herself. The elevator stopped as they stepped out into what was essentially a ghetto. While there were apartment buildings, there were also makeshift huts and small shelters that had one too many people crammed into it.

Elizabeth examined the poor living conditions, horrified, before saying, "These people are like this because of Fink? Maybe Daisy's right. Maybe she should pay him back for all of this."

"If they do that, they're not better than Fink's men. Justice over revenge." Dante looked over the scenery around them. "Honestly, there's a lot more places worse than this. Most of the time they have to fend for themselves-meanwhile the Founders are living comfy."

"And nobody helps them," she whispered sadly.

"Not true. Quod erat demonstrandum." Dante dug through his pockets and brought out a purse full of Silver Eagles. He walked over to a woman who held a sign that read: _Starving Children_. He held it out towards her, earning a wary look from her. "Here, to feed your children."

The woman just kept looking back and forth between him and the purse before Dante took her hand and placed the purse in it. "'Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.' Do you understand what that means?"

She nodded, and he closed her fingers around the purse. "Then go, feed them." The woman silently thanked Dante as she took the purse and hurried away to get food.

Dante walked back to the others as he quoted, "'Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.'"

"Did you write that?" Booker asked curiously, tilting his head.

"No, but Mark Twain did." Elizabeth lightly elbowed the PI in the side, grinning.

"He did, yes, but you see I what I mean?"

Elizabeth and Booker both nodded, and walked into the nearby bar aptly named the Graveyard Shift. They walked in, a few pairs of eyes staring at them before returning to whatever they were doing before; either drinking or playing cards. A few were swapping stories around a table. Dante motioned for the two to hang back while he walked up to the bar. The bartender just stared at them warily. "Whadda ya want?"

"A place where my friends and I can cool our heels for a bit." He placed a purse of Silver Eagles on the bartop. "No questions asked and a round of drinks for everyone."

The barkeep raised an eyebrow before grabbing the pouch. "Downstairs, just don't mess with my inventory."

"Much obliged." Dante signaled for the other two to follow as they made their way to the lower level. They followed him while trying to be as quiet as possible, so as not to garner the attention of the other patrons. Reaching the downstairs, they saw a small boy reaching for an orange on a shelf.

"Hi there," Elizabeth greeted, but the boy scurried off under the stairs into a crawl space. She sighed, clasping her hands together and holding them in front of herself. It was then something caught her eye, as well as the other two's. "A guitar. Wish I knew how to play...might dispel some of the gloom."

"I know how to play," Booker commented, awkwardly. Elizabeth turned to him, hopeful, and Dante saw the panicked look in his eyes.

Coming to the poor man's rescue, he said, "I know how to play, too. I think I have a song in mind that might help, actually. Shall I?" The two motioned to the guitar as Dante picked it up and settled it. Fiddling with the strings, he finally began to strum an unfamiliar song-well, unfamiliar to them. He himself had heard this song many times.

" _Every time when I look in the mirror...all these lines on my face getting clearer...the past is gone. It went by, like dusk to dawn. Isn't that the way? Everybody's got the dues in life to pay..._

 _I know, nobody knows, where it comes and where it goes. I know it's everybody sin, you got to lose to know how to win..._

 _Half my life's in books, written pages...Live and learn from fools and from sages...You know it's true, oh. All these feelings come back to you!_

 _Sing with me, sing for the years! Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears! Sing with me, just for today! Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away..._

 _Yeah, sing with me, sing for the year! Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear! Sing with me, just for today! Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away…"_

Here he stopped, though the song was not over yet-but he figured he should cut it short for the sake of time. He slowly strummed the last bars of the song, not looking up from the guitar until he finished. When he did, he found both of his companions looking at him in shock.

"What?" he asked cautiously.

"What was that song?" Elizabeth asked, walking towards him as he set down the guitar.

"It's nothing really-just an oldie that I know."

"I've never heard that song before," Booker replied suspiciously, eyeing him.

"Well, it's an oldie from where I'm from. That aside," He stood up, resting the guitar against the chair and stretching a bit. "Let's rest up for a few minutes before heading to the police station. I mean, it's gonna be swarming with Founders, so might as well."

"I don't think we quite have time for-" Booker started, but Elizabeth plopped right down into the chair that Dante had just vacated, already settling down nicely. Booker looked like he was about to argue, but ultimately decided against it and sighed, making himself at home on the floor.

"Alright, fine, five minutes. I suppose it wouldn't hurt. The First Lady really isn't going anywhere, after all…" Still, the eldest of the three looked unwary, grabbing his gun and making sure the weapon was operational. The weapon lay across his legs, ready to be used if the owner felt threatened.

"Exactly," Dante smirked, sitting down and leaning against a wall. The trio sat in silence, Booker nodding off while the other two were awake. The little boy from earlier popped up from his hiding space out of curiosity. Having notice this, Dante grabbed an orange from a nearby shelf and held it out. "Here." The boy looked at him and then the fruit warily before snatching it and crawling back to his hiding spot.

Elizabeth smiled at the gesture, first to the boy then to Dante. "That was…" she paused for a moment, searching for the right word before settling on, "...charitable."

"Well, no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted."

"That's very true," the girl admitted, looking back at the space where the small child had fled. "If only more people realized that…then maybe this place wouldn't be so tragic."

He sighed wearily. "It feels like here it just doesn't click. Comstock doesn't see that and sadly neither does Daisy. No chance of coexistence, all the other just wants is to rule."

"Well, I do think Daisy has a far more valid point than Comstock, but I suppose you're right. I wish...I wish things could be different, you know? That they could _actually_ change."

Dante snorted in amusement. "That'll be the day, but I doubt it'll every happen. Though why do you bother? I guarantee within another day or two you'll be...well anywhere that isn't here."

"What do you mean, why do I bother? What exactly are you talking about?"

"Thinking that Fitzroy or Comstock could change? One's an anarchist who's fighting for a just cause but doing it all wrong and the other is a man who changed his own history and...well, basically made you live a life of lies and solitude."

"Oh. Oh, no...no, I meant _things._ Like, the way the people here are treated, and how...well, you know. But you're right in that regard, for sure. I doubt either of them ever had many morals to begin with."

"Ah. Well most of the people here are either immigrants or descendants of a bygone horrible way of life. People like Fink, the Founders and anyone living life of luxury were taught or see them as nothing but animals, for lack of a better word. I mean, there are sympathizers, but they're afraid of what'll happen if they speak out. By what we've seen, Colombia doesn't accept that type of thinking."

"That is also true," Elizabeth agreed sadly. "But is there any kind of place that does?"

Dante rubbed the bottom of his chin. "Well, it is where I'm from."

"And where would that be?"

"Technically speaking, New York."

"From what I've read of that place, it's as much the same as anything else, and especially considering your appearance, I can't imagine that they would be too pleased with you having ideas of your own."

"Well it's...complicated. Though I'll say this, life there wasn't all too bad." Dante decided turn to face Elizabeth. "How about this? Tell me about your life in the tower and I'll spill out a bit of my own."

Elizabeth started at that, looking at him warily but ultimately deciding that he could be trusted, just a bit. "Well...lonely, for one. I didn't have any friends or anybody tot oak to. In fact, you and Booker were the first people I'd ever met."

"Well what about Songbird?"

"He fed me, brought me books, played with me, watched me...but he was never really a friend, more of an acquaintance of sorts."

"Well to that of a child, he could be considered an imaginary friend. Well, if said friend was real, could tear down buildings and be utterly relentless. So basically a very overprotective friend."

"I suppose. I never really considered him a friend after the age of ten, though. He was...my warden. He wanted to keep me locked up, to be ogled at and prodded like some specimen."

"Well, maybe it wasn't his choice."

"I'm sure it wasn't," she sighed wearily, suddenly wanting the conversation to be over. "In reality, he's just Comstock's pet, isn't he? Just like me." Absently, she took her pinky in hand and squeezed it tightly.

A pair of hands grasped hers as she saw a look of conviction in Dante's eyes as he spoke with a stern but truthful voice. "You are _nobody's_ pet. Those who've called you a pet would you see as that but are too damn blind to see you as a person. I see you as a remarkable person who deserves to be free and do what they dream of doing." Noting the placement of his hands, he gently removed them from hers. "Now, I know a bit more about you, what do you want to know about me?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, unsure. "Well...do you have any family?"

"Oh yes, a big family. Normally I see or come across them every now and then."

"That's nice. Do you care for each other? Are you one big happy family or a sad big family? It must be nice to have all those people…"

"We do, yes, but happy or sad? Ha! It's more complicated than that. And it is nice but…" Dante sighed, his eyes starting to look distant. "Sometimes...sometimes they leave, or they're left behind and sometimes...not many but...some died."

" _Oh._ Oh, I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. It must have been rough, losing people you love like that."

"Well they aren't truly lost. The memory of them will stay and they won't be sad ones. I can remember them when I want to, I just have to really want to - to bring them back in front of my eyes. The rest of the time they... they sleep in my mind, and I forget. But, I still carry them with me. What they would have thought and said and done I make them a part of who I am. So even though they're gone from the world they're never gone from me."

"That's certainly an odd way of putting it, but I like it. Interesting…that's a nice sentiment, truthfully."

"Thank you, my mentor said it to someone who was coping with the death of a loved one."

"Okay, who exactly is this mentor of yours? He seems to know a great deal and you've mentioned him a dozen or so times, so I'd like to know about him."

Dante, knowing that he couldn't share everything, decided to tell her a bit. "Well he's gone by many names but most know him as The Doctor."

"Oh, what's his practice?"

"All of them."

"...Wow, how helpful. That gives me everything I need to know about him. How could a man possibly have every single practice there is? Ridiculous-it would take several years to master even one, let alone as many as there are."

Dante just smirked innocently. "As impossible as that sounds, he specializes in the impossible."

Elizabeth was completely unamused by his cockiness, shifting away from him. "...Alright, fine. Are you actually going to tell me anything about him?"

All he did was put a finger to his lips. "Spoilers."

"...What? What does that mean?"

"It means I can't tell you everything. But tell you what? We get out of this, I'll let you meet him."

"...Alright."

 _ **XxxxxxxxX**_

After a good twenty minute rest, the three were back to it as they reached the Bull Yard. As they approached, they quickly realized that in true Columbia fashion, already there was a problem.

"We're gonna have to get through an army to get those tools," Booker groaned, not pleased with this new development. However, he did not sound surprised as he hefted his shotgun.

"Well, hasn't stopped us so far." Dante pointed out while checking his rounds.

"I suppose not," Elizabeth agreed, hesitantly, as she looked around for any kind of ground cover.

After a minute of examining the terrain, Dante managed to get a sense of what they could do to get inside. "Ok, counting the guards and the very massive turrets that are on the building, the small turret, and the Patriot, someone's gonna have to use the skyway and the other has to be on the ground. The latter will have an opportunity to take out any Founders taking pot shots at them from the intersections."

"Sounds good. Which one do you want?" Booker asked.

"Skyway. Although," he held out his sniper. "Swap you for the shotgun."

"Sure, but I want it back at the end of this." He grabbed the weapon and gave Dante his shotgun in return. He made sure the thing was working and loaded before motioning to Elizabeth. "C'mon, I think I saw a place you can hide. We're going to have to fight our way there but there's a couple of medkits down there you can toss us."

She nodded, ducking behind Booker and readying herself for what lay ahead. Booker cocked his weapon and Dante got ready as well.

"You ready for this?" Dante asked, eyeing Booker.

"Nope. Are you?"

"Hell no."

What proceeded for the next ten minutes was a combination of violence, death and unnecessary swearing. The ground forces that had gathered in the yard were dispatched with a Devil's Kiss grenade and the stragglers were shot. All that was left were whatever stragglers were inside the skyway intersections and the giant turrets. The latter was distracted by bursts of covering fire from Booker's sniper. Meanwhile the former was dealt with as Dante used a combo of his shotgun and his various Vigors to take them out. After the last soldier fell, all that was left was to take care of the automatons. Looking around, he spotted a tear that had a crate full of RPG's. Only problem being, Elizabeth was back on the ground hiding behind cover, and he was up on one of the intersections. He supposed he could try whittling down the turrets with his gunfire, but that was in the game world. In the actual world, he needed the heavy artillery.

He made his way down to where Elizabeth was crouching behind a couple of crates and whistled to her. When she looked up, he pointed to the skyline and gestured for her to follow him. She did with only the slightest hesitance, dodging gunfire as she leapt onto the skyline and dropping into one of the intersections, where she found the tear and ripped it open. He grabbed two of the launchers and set one aside while hefting the other up and opened fire on the turret. In less than two shots, the weapon was spent and the turret was damaged. He grabbed the other one he fired one more and the turret was destroyed. Firing the last hot, it hit the second turret which aimed itself towards him.

"Well, it's been fun," he quipped, shortly before grabbing Elizabeth's hand as the two got to the skyway before a barrage of missiles hit where they once stood. While Elizabeth dismounted back on the ground, Dante stayed on the skyway to get another pass at the turret. An opening presented itself as he lobbed a heavily charged ball of Devil's Kiss which stuck itself on the turret and exploded. The turret itself strained until it faltered and broke, exploding in the process.

"That...was amazing," Elizabeth commented from her position. She gave a thumbs up to him.

Dante returned the thumbs up as he landed near the front door to be greeted by the turret and Patriot he spotted. He rolled away from the gunfire as he threw a Possession at the former which opened fire on the automaton. The turret was destroyed but the opportunity opened itself as Dante loaded all six shells into the back of the Patriot as it collapsed.

'Now all that's left is who's inside,' Dante thought before signaling an all clear for the other two. They all assembled together in front of the door which, naturally, happened to be locked. The two swapped guns while Elizabeth went to work on the lock, and soon enough they were walking into the impound. It seemed almost abandoned but they knew better. After gathering enough supplies, they walked through another pair of doors only to be met with more Founders, which they dispatched rather quickly though the Patriot took a tad longer. They made their way down the basement as Elizabeth spotted the tools, and mentioned as much to the others.

"There they are. The tools!"

"Now we just have to get them back to the Vox, and then we get our airship," Booker muttered, relieved. He lowered his weapon, as it didn't seem there were any hostiles in the immediate area. They came across a locked gate that led down towards them. Once again, Elizabeth worked on the lock as it fell off a few minutes later.

"Who are we really helping by getting guns for the Vox Populi?" Elizabeth asked as they walked down the steps and turned the corner into the opening.

"It's gonna help us," Booker said with a note of finality and indifference.

"Daisy can make a change, can't she? Make things better for the people here."

"Sure," Booker mentioned placatingly, which Elizabeth obviously didn't pick up on.

"Don't be too sure," Dante commented under his breath.

They find Chen's tools...all of them gigantic and heavy. Booker groaned dramatically while Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and stared. Dante, however, looked thoughtful, examining the pile in front of them while the other two cursed their bad luck.

"Well, we sure as hell aren't gonna be able to carry this all back to the shop. God, we didn't think this all the way through." Booker lamented, looking like he wanted to punch a wall.

On cue, he cleared his throat to get the others attention. "What's that then?" Dante asked, knowing the answer but wanting them to figure it out for themselves.

They looked to see the same ripple appear out of mid air in front of the tools as it did back at the Good Time Club. Looking through, instead of the tools they saw confiscated weapons and crates. Elizabeth gasped while Booker gaped.

"It looks like a tear...to another version of this room that doesn't have any tools in it."

"Well, if the tools aren't in there, then…" Elizabeth started.

"Then they must be-" Booker continued.

"-back at the shop!" All three said at once.

"But.." Elizabeth faltered, fiddling with the thimble on her pinky. "If we go into this tear...I don't think there's any turning back. Are you sure about this?"

The two looked at each other before Booker nodded. Once again, Elizabeth grabbed the air in front of her, making a pulling motion, as the world around them was consumed in a flash of light. Once the spots in their eyes subsided, they find the area their in full of guns instead of contraband. Dante took a second to swap his machine gun for a burst gun, making sure to grab some spare magazines.

"Well, that did...something." Elizabeth commented before staggering, Dante stepping in as she fell back in his arms. Thankfully she did not pass out, although she did let out a yawn. "I'm fine, just need a minute. Thank you though."

Booker shifted the gun in his hands. "Come on, let's head back to the gunsmith and finish our deal. I aim to be on that airship, and well shut of this place 'fore long."

After regaining her footing, Elizabeth said, "Daisy can make a change here, Booker. We can be a part of it! Just think-"

"I don't want to be a part of anything, Elizabeth. What is it with you? First you want to go to Paris, _abandon us_ for not taking you, and then when we ARE going to Paris you suddenly change your mind and want to help folks you don't even _know._ Make up your mind!"

They started back the way they came, Elizabeth and Booker arguing back and forth all the while as Dante wished they'd stop. They had just reached the doors to the main entrance area when Elizabeth decided to be a little more authoritative in her mission statement.

"Booker," Elizabeth tried again, pursuing the subject even though Booker made it clear he couldn't care less. "If the Vox get their weapons, there's going to be a revolution just like in Les Miserables! These people are gonna have better lives." Her arguments were in vain, however, as Booker just shook his head. Dante actually agreed with him, albeit silently.

"If I recall correctly, Elizabeth, Daisy Fitzroy is more of a Javert than a Valjean."

Elizabeth, although understanding the reference, sighed and shook her head as they neared the doors. "You guys just don't _understand._ These people are being oppressed and brutalized, and Daisy _understands_ them. She wants to _help_ them. We can help people, too, instead of running away from our problems and pretending that that kind of injustice doesn't exist or doesn't affect us. Booker, Dante, you promised you would take me anywhere I wanted. Well, I _want_ to _stay. Here._ "

Knowing he'd have to cut in somehow, Dante decided make his voice heard. "Elizabeth, look, I know you mean well and I understand you clearly. But all Booker was tasked with was to get you outta this place. I was hired to back him up. Nothing more, nothing less. I get that you want to help these people but," he had to word this very carefully otherwise he'd compromise everything. "You can't save everyone. The Doctor, despite he and I traveling and passing through so many places, we couldn't save everyone. The world has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. But everything has its time."

"'I...alright, I suppose you have a point, though I loathe to admit it. But...but I don't expect to save _everyone._ Just as many people as I can...but. But I suppose we can figure all of this out later, once we've gotten the weapons back to the Vox."

"Fantastic idea," Booker muttered, obviously very pleased with this answer. "Let's get to it then."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

They made their way up from the basement as they heard an ongoing battle raging outside. The constant chanting of "Vox" like the beat of a war drum, getting faster and faster. As they walked outside, a Founder that was turned towards them was gunned down as Vox rushed anyone who wasn't them. Making their way towards Shantytown, they came across another Vox soldier as he gunned down a Founder. Looking up at the trio, he stared and pointed at Booker in shock and awe. In true Booker fashion, he hefted his gun up at pointed it at the stranger's face before Elizabeth very forcibly pushed it down, giving him a look.

"You...you're Booker DeWitt, the hero of the Vox!" He said before running off ahead of them.

Booker stared, uncomprehending. "What the hell are they talking about…"

Dante looked around before nudging the PI and nodded towards the nearby wall. "I think that's what he was talking about."

The other two looked in the direction to see poster of Booker raising his fist and the words: **DEWITT! MARTYR OF THE REVOLUTION** printed next to it.

"In this world, you're a hero…" Elizabeth breathed out, trying regain a sense of things; more specifically, what had changed.

Booker raised a hand to his head as he began muttering, "I remember I led the Vox, I...Slate and I...burned down the Hall of Heroes…"

Elizabeth shook her head, but started when she noticed his nose dripping, bringing a hand gently to his. "Booker, your nose...you're bleeding."

He brought his fingers to his nose, pulling back to see drops of blood. Placing a hand to his forehead, he mumbled, "Hard to think. There's two memories in the same place…" He went off of this for some time, mumbling and whispering to himself as he stood there looking dazed and confused. Dante was about to step in with a line about how they should really get going when Elizabeth grabbed his wrist and brought it down to his side.

"Booker, come back to us... We're going to find Daisy Fitzroy…"

Booker's daze seemed to clear, his eyes losing that lost look and his face regaining its usual stoicness. "And we're getting out of here on the First Lady...let's go."

They passed by more Vox who either were executing kneeling Founders or celebrating in the streets, most of them holding some sort of liquor in their hands and more than a few clearly intoxicated. Daisy's voice rang out. from the First Lady, which had her face projected onto it. She addressed her celebrating people, enunciating clearly and fiercely. There was a certain fire in her tone, one that would never be dimmed or extinguished by the Founders or Comstock.

" _Booker DeWitt died for this day! It was he who spoke with one voice of the people! Now is the time to stand true to his cause! Now is the time for Fink to fall! To the factory! Let the mighty be laid low! For the people, for Booker DeWitt, and the true voice! We're going to the factory - and we're not just gonna burn it down! Only way to be sure is to pull it up from the roots!_ "

"She sure knows how to give a speech," Dante commented as the three pile back into the elevator that went back to the plaza.

With the button hit and the elevator going up, Elizabeth decided to weigh in her opinion on the matter. She glanced out the window almost wistfully, commenting, "In this world, you were a martyr…"

"These folk need a better class of hero," Booker scoffed."When it comes down to it...the only difference between Comstock and Fitzroy is how you spell the name."

"Same coin, different sides." Dante muttered in agreement.

They reached the station that lead to the plaza, past the armory they passed beforehand to find it wide open. And still sitting on the podium it was on was the Charge Vigor. Dante stepped inside and grabbed it before tossing it to Booker.

"You're more of a close range fighter, you'll get more use out of it than I will."

"Eh, thanks," Booker said, popping open the Vigor and downing it in one go.

One hallucination later, the trio continued forward, managing to assist a group of Vox who were fighting off an squad of Founders. Reaching the doors and stepping into the box room, Dante pulled the lever as the boxes moved once again.

"Well...I guess we did it." Elizabeth sighed. "I don't know if I brought us to a world where the Vox had weapons...or I created one."

Booker said nothing as the last of the boxes cleared but Dante pondered for a couple moments before speaking their mind.

"Who's to say you created it? I mean you did say that whenever you opened a tear, it was a form of wish fulfillment right? But what if..."

"What if what?"

Dante waved his hand. "Never mind, never mind. Just...I don't know, unless we know for sure I can't jump to conclusions."

They continued forward, helping the Vox forces take down any opposing Founders that stood in their way. It wasn't until they reached the gunshop that went from right to wrong. Lying on the floor, a puddle of blood under them, were Mr. and Mrs. Lin. The former looked as bloodied and beaten as they found him dead the first time and the latter's eyes had a dead look to them.

Booker cursed violently under his breath while Dante looked on with a look of regret and grief on his face. Death was always constant in his line of work, but it was still a horrible thing to experience. Elizabeth, as expected, did not react well either, gasping and bringing a shaking hand to her mouth.

"No...no, this is not what I meant to happen…"

Booker tried to console her, despite his failing streak of doing so. 'At least he's trying,' Dante thought to himself. "Elizabeth…"

"They're dead, Booker!" Elizabeth started crying before being wrapped in a hug, given by Dante.

"Come on, let's leave this place." He suggested, helping her move away from the bodies.

"He's right." Booker stepped in as they made their way to the doors leading to the factor. "Let's go to the factory and get our airship. This isn't our responsibility - none of it. You just opened a door to this world and we stepped through."

"Are you sure, Booker? Did I just bring us to a world where Chen Lin was alive, or...or did I create it?" Elizabeth sounded horrified at even the possibility, looking down at her own hands and breathing heavily. She shook her head sadly, hugging herself tightly.

"We don't know for certain," Dante reassured, trying to help ease the pain. "But I know for certain is that the Lin's death isn't of our own doing."

Elizabeth nodded, though it seemed half hearted, and the trio made their way to the doors of the Factory.

 _ **XxxxxxxX**_

Approaching the factory with the oncoming Vox forces, they see that they're using cutting tools to open the is, until a massive zeppelin appears to bracket the walkways with fiery blasts. The trio moved back as the group tending to the gate was mercilessly slaughtered.

"No way to open the gates with that zeppelin fire!" A soldier shouted as he ran for cover.

"They can't get that door open until someone takes that airship out." Dante yelled over the commotion, getting near the nearest point of the skyline. He took out his Sky Hook and hoisted his weapon.

"Are we volunteering?!" Elizabeth asked incredulously, glancing up at the giant airship looming above them.

"Not you. Me." He turned to Booker, a determined glare in his eyes. "Keep her safe. If I don't make it, get her out of here."

Booker shrugged, grabbing Elizabeth by the arm and leading her away despite her protests. "That was the plan, yeah!" he called back, as they ran towards the gate to wait with the Vox protestors.

Getting a running start, he jumped as his skyhook grabbed onto the skyline. He made his way towards the warship before landing on the wing of it. Dante shot a Possession at the nearest turret which turned on the Founders before being destroyed. Making his way inside, he shot another Possession at the Patriot, which assisted him in taking out the remaining soldiers before reverting back to normal. A bolt of Shock Jockey and two charged lobbs of Devil's Kiss, the automaton fell. "Right, one engine sabotage coming up." He muttered to himself, heading towards a bundle of cables and spinning up his skyhook before slicing them. Alarms went off as the engine caught on fire, signifying that he needed to leave. Running towards the nearest door, he jumped out yelling, "Geronimo!"

He hooked onto the skyline as he made his way down towards the group of Vox as the airship crashed into the cloud's below. As he landed back on the bridge, he was rushed by the Vox, giving him claps on the back and cheers. Elizabeth pushed through the crowd, and as Dante turned around he saw that she had a look of fury in her eyes. Before he had a chance to speak, she drew her hand back and slapped him right across the face.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his face where she'd hit him.

"Maybe next time tell us what you're going to do before you do it?! We could have helped, we're more than capable—and 'keep her safe?' I'm more than capable of handling myself, thank you very much. Something that I know you _both_ know very well. Besides, Booker could have handled it himself if only one of us had to go." She then pulled him into a bone crushing hug, whispering into his shoulder, "Don't _ever_ do anything like that again—I've already lost enough."

He returned the hug with equal fervor, murmuring, "As you wish."

Booker cleared his throat, suddenly very uncomfortable. "If you two are done, let's go find Daisy in the factory? We do sort of have more pressing matters to handle."

Just then, the Vox who were working on the gate got through and yelled, "The gates are open! NOW LET'S TAKE THEIR HEADS!"

The trio walked into Fink's stronghold, the Vox taking down any and all opposition in the way for them.

"Daisy said she was coming here for Fink," Elizabeth remembered.

"We need to take that elevator up. Bet it leads to Fink's offices." Booker noted as the trio piled into said elevator. They ascended, watching production of Fink's products being made and backed up, Founder's being used as targets for turrets and Vigors overflowing the assembly line.

Elizabeth glared out the window, hugging herself tightly and scoffing. "They're just right for each other, aren't they?"

"Who?"

"Fitzroy and Comstock." She was silent for a moment, processing all that had happened. When she next spoke, her voice was quiet. "May Lin...Mr. Lin...my god, I...I was so set on going to Paris...I didn't really think that-"

"You couldn't have known this would happen." Booker reassured.

"I had a role in this catastrophe, if, if you want to pretend we're innocents in this, then that's your prerogative, but-"

The mounted phone began to rang before either of them could say another word.

Booker, against his better judgement, decided to answer it, pushing the button. "Umm...hello? ...Fink?"

" _I saw you die, Booker. Saw it with my own eyes._ " Daisy's voice said, disbelief, hatred, and pain lining her voice.

"Fitzroy," Booker breathed, frowning. "Listen, I got you your guns. I'm here for my airship."

" _But my Booker DeWitt died for the Vox Populi. You either an imposter...or a ghost. My Booker DeWitt was a hero to the cause. A story to tell your children. You...you just complicate the narrative._ " With that ominous ending, the line went dead, and the doors opened with Vox on the other side.

Just as they raised their guns, Booker shot off a Bucking Bronco, launching them into the air. He and Dante finished them off before proceeding forward until the latter's foot hit something. Looking down, he picked up a new Vigor bottle, Undertow this time around. Uncapping it, swigging it down and one hallucination later, the trio proceeded through the doors. They stepped outside, their surroundings looking like a giant clock with gears and pieces of metal shifting all around.

"Look!"

Through a window, they saw Daisy holding Fink at gunpoint, who was begging on his knees with his son cowering besides him. The child was clearly terrified, trying to push past Daisy and escape through the door, but the woman wasn't having it, briefly pointing the gun at him instead before turning back to Fink.

"No! Stop it! No! No, no, no!" The man begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. She shots Fink, who dropped dead, at which point Fitzroy allowed his son to run off. Staring at the trio, though focusing mainly on Booker, Daisy wiped the blood off the glass before smearing it on her face.

"Kill the impostors. Burn their bodies when you're done." With that, she turned from the window, intending to hunt down the child.

'And so endgame begins,' Dante thought, picking up a Salts bottle and downing its contents. A Vox airship docked on the far right, dropping off a handful of soldiers and a Handyman. Without another word, he began firing off shots at the oncoming Vox while Booker got the Handyman's attention. Dante used Undertow to push and pulled Daisy's men off platforms into the cloud's below, while Booker used a combo of his Vigor's to distract and antagonize the giant steampunk cyborg. Helping finish off the Handyman, the two went back towards the widow where Daisy was holding the struggling child.

"No, no, no, no! She's going to kill that child…" She turned to the two, a look of depreciation on her face. "We have to do something! We have to act - we have to get in there!" Looking around, she spotted an air vent. "C'mon, we've - we gotta get in there. Boost me up!" Dante obliged as he kneeled down and clasped his hands she was boosted up. Before crawling inside, she told Booker, "Go to the window and distract Daisy. Go!"

The PI walked over to the window as Dante watched. He probably should have intervened as well, but he decided not to as major events still had to happen. He watched as Booker as knocked on the glass. "Is this it? Is this your movement, Daisy?"

Daisy turned to him, hatred glowing on her face as she pushed the pistol harder into the child's skull. "This is what needs to be done!" she spat. "You see, the Founders ain't nothin' but weeds. Cut 'em down and they just grow back!" There was something else on her face then, just the tiniest flicker-of uncertainty, of...reluctance? _Fear?_ What could Daisy possibly be afraid of? If she truly believed in this cause she wouldn't be reluctant either. "If you wanna get rid of a weed, you gotta pull it up from the root! It's the only way to be sure- Aaah!" She jerked forward, letting go of the kid, as a bladed object passed through the back of her throat. It was pulled out as Daisy got on her knees, the lights turning on to reveal Elizabeth holding a pair of scissors in her hand. The kid bolted past the two men as the dying rebel leader crawled towards the girl before dropping dead.

"Elizabeth…" was all Booker could say as he tried to console her, but all Elizabeth could do was look at her blood soaked hands, his words falling on deaf ears. Dante wanted to help but sadly he was just as stunned as they were. He, as well as Booker, were no strangers to death, both being soldiers at one time in their lives. But seeing someone kill another person for the first time in their life was never easy. Let alone someone like Elizabeth who couldn't even bring herself to harm a bee. But what was done, was done. Booker moved closer to try and comfort her, only for her to back away.

"Whoa, whoa...hey...hey, easy…"

She didn't speak, too shocked and horrified to say anything. She looked at Booker with wide eyes before turning to Dante, backing away from both of them further before bolting towards the First Lady. Deciding to try his luck with her, Dante ran after her and managing to catch up before she could lock herself into the back room.

"Elizabeth, listen to me." He touched her shoulder, turning her around and not even bother to glance at the blood on her person. "You made a choice that someone wouldn't dream of doing unless it was necessary. Daisy was...too far gone. Even if it were me to try and talk her down I couldn't. I just wish it wasn't you who had to do what needed to be done."

"I…" she looked lost, above anything else. She shifted nervously from side to side, glancing around at anything but Dante, and staying as far away as possible from him. "Thanks. Thank you. I...I needed to hear that. But at the same time...I just _killed_ someone. I know it was necessary, I know it had to be done, but that doesn't make it any less horrendous."

"No it doesn't. And sadly it doesn't go away either. You have to live with it. But," he sighed, rubbing his hands together like he was wiping off something. "You dull it out, make it easier to handle if you do more good. Make yourself above others who'd stoop to that level without batting an eye. Otherwise, you're no better then them."

"I did what I had to do," she repeats, her tone dull and monotone and her eyes glazed over and glassy. "Uh...thank you, Dante. I do appreciate it. But I—I need to be alone for now. Can you just—just give me some time? Please? I just….I just need to figure out my emotions on the matter. I need to figure out what I am and where I stand. After I figure that out, I will probably want some company though, so...well, I mean, why wouldn't you be here. So...I'll come find you."

"Ok." Stepping outside, he locked the door behind him before running his hands over his face. A couple moments later, Booker came through looking around before asking, "Where-?"

Dante motioned over to the door he was leaning by. "She needs a few minutes. After that, take off, I guess, and we'll figure out where we'll be going."

"I thought we were going to Paris? That's what the folks said."

He gave Booker a strange look. "I thought you didn't believe me?"

He shrugged, glancing back at the door through which Elizabeth had disappeared. "Well, we'll find out, won't we? Besides, given what we've been through so far, I think you've more than earned the right to a little faith and trust."

"Thanks."

Booker just shrugged before turning to the console and beginning to mess with the controls.

 _ **XxxxxxX**_

It was a few minutes later before Booker decided to start the ship, taking a minute to relax and recuperate. Off to the side, Dante checked his bandage from the earlier bullet wound he sustained to see that it had healed. His hand, on the other hand (no pun intended) was taking a bit longer to heal. Considering the fact he took a knife to it the wound itself was still gaping a tad. Right as he finished rewrapping it, opening and closing his hand, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

He looked up to see Elizabeth, but...not the same Elizabeth that had entered the airship. This one was...for lack of a better word, drop dead gorgeous. Wearing the blue dress that once belonged to Lady Comstock, as well as cutting off her hair, she looked gorgeous. She stood straight, made eye contact, and something was altogether different about her air, though Dante couldn't think of what. Putting a finger on her lips, she motioned for him to step inside the room which he obliged.

"So," he clapped his hands together. "Where do you stand?"

"What I did wasn't just, nor right, but it had to be done and even though it was necessary. Even though it's going to haunt me for the rest of my days. From now on, I can't just pretend that the world is just black and white—it's actually several different shades of grey. Just a day or two ago I was just a child, naive and alone, who wanted to get out of Columbia, out of my prison, and go be free in Paris. But I can't do that anymore….I'm not that person anymore. I've changed, maybe for the better and maybe for the worse. I'm not sure yet. What I am sure about is that I'm not going through this alone, and...well, there are people here to help me, who have been through the same stuff I have and...care about me."

Dante's expression turned from neutral to happiness, deciding to envelop her in a tight hug. She returned the hug with equal fervor.

"Beautifully put, I think. Now," He unlatched the hug they were in but held her hands. "I have to say you clean up very well. This dress suits you more than it did Lady Comstock."

"Thanks," she mumbled, blushing. "Um…"

"What, what is it?"

She swung their still joined hands lightly. "We're holding hands," she finished lamely.

"Oh." He was silent for a moment. "Well...uh, should I let go or-?"

He didn't get a chance to finish as Elizabeth just grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him. At first Dante was stun locked until he just thought, 'screw it', and went with the flow of it. The two locked lips for a minute or two before letting go for air.

"That was…" Elizabeth breathed, a smile on her face.

"Incredible," Dante finished, a big grin plastered on his face. "Though I think it's best if Booker didn't know about this."

"Agreed," she laughs.

"Though maybe when he's not looking..." He suggested.

"I'd be up for that."

"I'll take you up on that. For now, let's get up front." Opening the door, he stepped out with Elizabeth behind him. Booker was manning the controls putting in a set of coordinates, apparently unaware of their situation and what had occurred between them.

"So uh...how'd it go?" Booker asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "If you meant to ask if I was alright, I am."

"Oh. Good, that's uh...good."

Willing to forgive Booker's insensitivity, she walked up towards the controls to get a look at outside. "So the moment of truth between all of us: New York or Paris?"

Before either of them said a word, a familiar tune whistled out from the Comstock statue and a certain winged individual flew past the front of the ship.

"No...no...no no no no no!"

"Oh shit! Come on, we gotta make this thing go faster…"

"There's gotta be some sort of...some sort of throttle or accelerator or something!"

Booker groaned, flipping random switches and banging his hand against the console. "Well, do you know what that looks like?!"

"I don't think blips have accelerators!" Dante yelled just as Songbird flew into the bridge, depressurizing the cabin. The giant bird grabbed the front of the ship with its talons before flipping it over, causing the ship to tumble out of the sky while inside the trio were being tossed around.

"Hang on to something!" was the last thing Booker said before they slammed onto the floor, losing consciousness.

 _ **XxxxxxxxxX**_

A good few minutes passed before Elizabeth woke up, holding her head in her hand. She took a couple moments to gain her surroundings before noticing Dante's still form. Crawling over, gently poking his frame with three of her fingers. He didn't budge so she rolled up his sleeve to check his pulse. The curious thing was that it seemed a little too erratic. Heart beats normally went sixty to one hundred, but his went way faster than that. It wasn't till she moved her fingers down that she felt...another pulse? Before she had a chance to ponder this, Dante gasped and bolted upright. Elizabeth startled, backtracking quickly.

"Are you alright?"

Not noticing his rolled up sleeve, Dante checked his pulse and nodded. He also checked his other parts, making sure he was in one piece. Getting a nod in confirmation, Elizabeth sighed in relief before embracing him. "Thank goodness," she sighed. "Your heart rate was absolutely insane."

"Well...there's a reason for that..."

Before he had a chance to explain, they heard a groan from Booker and the plinking of a piano from outside and two familiar voices.

"That's not it."

"It certainly _is_."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, noting the notes that were being struck sounded familiar. "We've got to stop them." She stumbled over to the bulkhead and tried to pry it open, with no luck.

Booker, on the other hand, was still struggling to get up. Dante was helping him, shaking off his own daze as well. Outside, the two voices continued their bickering, striking a few more notes on what sounded like a piano.

"No, that's the E."

"No."

"Hurry! If they play the whole song, he'll come back!" Elizabeth pleaded, her struggling with the door all for naught until the other two came over and helped pry it open.

"Hmm. Nope, that is not it."

"Is. Is. Is. Pay attention."

Finally getting the door to open, they walked towards to the ruined building below where the twins were just figuring out the notes on the piano.

"Stop it! Stop it, you don't know what you're doing!" Elizabeth yelled at them just as they played a similar set of four notes.

"Ha! There it is."

"No! You've done it now, he's...he's coming back...he's coming back!" She dreaded, watching the skies out of fear...only for nothing to happen.

"The notes were correct..." Robert started, glancing at his female counterpart.

"...The instrument was not," Rosalind finished, smirking smugly.

"One needs both to get his attention."

"But if you know how to sing to him…"

"He will take you where you need to go." Robert dug into his pocket before holding out a card. Booker took the card from the man's outstretched hand.

"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked.

"We are...where we are needed." The woman glanced at her male counterpart, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"And needed where we are," he finished.

"So Comstock uses these songs. Are there others we can use? Something to keep the bird off our back?" Booker asked, examining the drawings on the card. Elizabeth and Dante glanced at it as well, and although he understood, she did not.

"Perhaps you should ask the maestro himself." Rosalind suggested, turning back to the piano at last.

"So where is he-?"

The trio look up to see that both have vanished.

"-of course. Well, at least they left the piano."

Moving the piano out of the way, the trio made their way through the arch before noticing off in the distance a large mansion.

"That's Comstock House. If we're gonna find him, we should start there."

"You certain?" Dante asked, looking in the direction she was pointing and slightly frowning. "The guy's been pretty ominous, only appeared in front of us once before taking off on an airship. He could be anywhere."

"I'm...I don't know. But we have to try."

Continuing in the general direction of the mansion, they notice civilians all trying to escape with their possessions.

"Where are these people going?" Elizabeth asked, concerning for their safety.

"Wherever the Vox Populi ain't." Booker answered.

Passing by more fleeing civilians, the station was in view but was crawling with Vox. Fighting their way through the opposing forces, making short work of them. After the last of them were dropped, they finally made it to Port Prosperity station to find the door locked which Elizabeth immediately got to work on it.

"What is it about that song that brings in the bird?"

"You mind if I could explain?" Dante asked Elizabeth who took a moment before nodding. "Well apparently when she was younger, she used to be excited when I heard it."

"Excited?"

"He was all she had. Fed her, brought her books. He was her friend."

"Friend?"

"Until I grew up." Elizabeth chipped in, unlocking the lock as it dropped to the ground. "And then I hated him. Because he was my warden. But he's just Comstock's pet, isn't he? Just like me."

Dante grabbed her shoulder. "No you're not. Comstock wants you to think that you're just his pawn but you're not. You are who you choose to be, not what others want."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile while putting a hand over his. She stood up and pecked him on the lips. "I know. Thank you for teaching me that."

"Uh...did I...miss something?" Booker asked uncomfortably, looking between the two and raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just see if he's in the mansion." Dante said quickly, wanting to diffuse the situation.

"Wait hey, don't ignore me. Seriously, when did something happen between you two?"

"Does it really matter, Booker?" Elizabeth asked, exasperated.

Booker was about to retort as they walked inside, but didn't bother after they saw the interior is mostly in ruins, dead bodies strewn about. Not helped by a wooden bored that had scalps nailed to them.

"Look at this. Fitzroy's no better than Comstock...was she?"

"Once people get their blood up...it ain't easy to settle it down again."

They continued forward, only enemies around were two Vox soldiers scavenging for goods who were dispatched with no problem. Walking towards the station, Elizabeth asked, "This prophecy business... You don't think anyone can really see the future, do you?"

"I saw something once," Booker told her, frowning. "When I first got here...a dream... It was New York, but larger than any New York I ever saw...it was burning."

"Hmmm. Hope none of the Prophet's 'magic' is rubbing off on you." She teased, getting a snicker out of Dante but a groan from Booker. The fun was over once they heard the whooping and hollering of the Vox who were aboard the oncoming trolley. Once they got off, with a repurposed Patriot in tow, they were greeted by a gunfire, a tear turret and a combo of Vigors. A few minutes later they lay dead and the automaton reduced to scrap and the trio walked onto the trolley. Dante flipped the switch as it made its way towards Port Prosperity.

As the cable car made its journey across the tram line, the mysterious twins emerged again, this time playing a game of baseball. Booker groaned, Dante stared, and Elizabeth gasped.

"I just realized who those two are," Elizabeth said, grabbing Booker's arm. "They...well at least she...invented the technology that allows the city to float."

"Giant balloons?" Booker joked, though Elizabeth didn't realize. She scoffed, rolling her eyes and was about to continue before Dante interrupted.

"Quantum particles, actually. Suspended in space-time at fixed height." he said, and received a side-eye from Elizabeth in return, who although she was impressed by his know-how, was not pleased she'd been interrupted. He shrugged in apology.

"So... _not_ giant balloons?"

Elizabeth ignored him in favor of continuing her train of thought. "The thing is, my books say they disappeared several years ago..."

The pair passed their line of sight as they passed the platform they were on, but they quickly reappeared again on the upcoming platform— this time, the former seemingly doing a portrait of the latter. In reality, however, he was doing one of himself. Since they were the same person, though, technically he _was_ doing one of his partner.

Robert did not even look up from his painting as the three approached. "I told you they'd come."

"No, you didn't." Rosalind didn't move from her position as she looked up and held an apple, posing for the picture that Robert wasn't painting.

" _Right._ I was going to tell you they'd come." Robert corrected.

"But you didn't."

"But I _don't_."

"Something tells me they're not exactly what they appear." Elizabeth examined the pair as they continued their various activities, and frowned.

Robert tried again as the two continued painting, even as the car passed them. " I was going to _have_ told you they'd come?"

"No."

"The subjunctive?"

Rosalind frowned. "That's _not_ the subjunctive."

"I don't think the syntax has been invented yet," Robert retorted, annoyed with her.

"It would had to have had been," Rosalind replied in disbelief.

"Had to have...had...been? That can't be right."

Elizabeth studied them closely, commenting, "They seem to want help."

Booker just rolled his eyes. "They seem to be out of their minds."

Elizabeth's earlier statement again became obvious as they appeared further up ahead; this time, the pair were dancing a graceful and perfectly synchronized waltz.

"Odd, isn't it?" Rosalind inquired, starting the pair off on yet another nonsensical conversation.

"What's odd?"

"The facts that sometimes we-"

"-finish each other's sentences?"

"Exactly."

"It would be odder if we didn't."

"Hm."

The long cable car ride finally ended as the trolley docked in Port Prosperity.

"How do you suppose they manage that?" Elizabeth asked in astonishment.

"I'll get back to you on that after I figure out the floating city bit. Come on." Booker answered as he stepped off the car.

Just as they were about to walk off, Dante pulled Elizabeth to the side.

"What is it?"

"Well, uhh...I, ah, wanted to give you something." He unraveled his ribbon tie and passed her the multi colored object, bunching it up and placing it in her hand before closing her fist. Elizabeth looked down at the string and smiled.

"Oh, it's beautiful! I love it, thank you. Where did you get this?"

"Well, I kinda made it myself. Got the idea from...well you know who."

"The Doctor, I'm guessing..."

"Bingo. So...need help tying it on?"

She held it out wordlessly, waiting patiently as he tied it around her wrist and examined his work. Once he was satisfied, he held out his hand and asked, "Onwards?"

Elizabeth took it, smiling. "Onwards."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

After catching up with Booker, they came across a poster which caught Elizabeth's attention. ""The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne,"" she read out loud before turning to the two. "He was grooming me, wasn't he?" she realized in horror, shaking her head as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"Apparently so," Dante answered, a slight grim tone present in his voice. He shook his head as well, placing a hand on Elizabeth's upper arm to soothe and comfort her. She placed a delicate hand on his, smiling slightly as she looked up at him. But then she frowned, turning to Booker and posing him a question that none of them could truly answer-not yet.

"Then why lock me up?"

"Well, I'm guessin' you didn't want to be groomed," Booker surmised after a while, risking a glance in her direction. "Maybe he had something in the works to make you...agreeable."

"Like what?" she asked, her tone of voice letting it be known that she didn't really want to know the answer.

"I think it's best we don't find out."

Taking turn to through the left door, which was broken open, Dante and Booker dispatched two Vox guards who were standing around before moving to the right and forward. Their destination was on the left up a flight of stairs while an establishment, The Salty Oyster was on their right-if Dante's memory served him right, the last new vigor was in that restaurant, but it would be inaccessible without first pressing the button underneath the register. He turned to his partners, hooking a thumb at the restaurant door.

"We should check this place out." Dante suggested. "Though there might be someone held up in there, so let's do it quick. If any Vox hear us, they'll just think it's more of them cleaning up."

"You certain?" Booker asked, still questioning his partner's judgement. He did trust him, though, so it was less of a question and more of an affirmation.

"Positive. Besides, it'd be nice to sit down and recuperate for awhile. Not to mention, when's the last time any of us had food?"

Their conversation was interrupted when a strange noise came from seemingly nowhere, and it sounded suspiciously like the sound a stomach makes when it needs two turned to see Elizabeth blushing and looking off to the side.

"Point taken."

They took positions to the sides of the door while Elizabeth went to work on the lock. Once it clicked, Dante yanked her to the side as a hail of gunfire went past. Booker peaked in and drew his machine gun, firing at the single shooter who dropped dead. They walked inside and saw it was clear before locking the door behind them.

"Now, let's see what we got for food here. We can't very well cook a five star meal after all, seeing as none of us know how to do so and we're crunched for time. Besides, the kitchen is probably closed off." Dante browsed around grabbing a few clean plates, placing mostly unspoiled fruits on them. The three sat down in a booth as he grabbed a bottle of soda for each of them, and they began to eat. As Dante took a large bite out of a mostly unsoiled apple, he glanced over at Elizabeth-she was holding a pear herself, but made no attempt to eat it. She just stared at it, occasionally tossing it from hand to hand.

"What's wrong?"

Elizabeth glanced up at that, startled, but relaxed once she realized that it was simply Dante. "Ah...well, I suppose I'd be lying if I said everything was alright, and you'd call my bluff anyways. I was just wondering...what happens when we find Comstock? Obviously, he isn't going to just let us go just because we found out his secrets or because we don't want to conform to his perfect vision. We're certainly not going to be able to change his mind." She stopped for a moment, contemplating her next words and the situation before sighing deeply. "We're going to have to kill him, aren't we?" she said more than asked, matter-of-factly. She didn't look at either of them, only at the pear in her hand. Booker and Dante, however, shared a worrying look before Booker cleared his throat.

"Looks like it," Booker surmised, trying to think of something to reassure her, but of course he couldn't come up with anything. He decided that it would probably be best to leave all of the emotional stuff to Dante.

"With everything he's thrown at us, what lengths he's gone to hinder our leaving of this hell, it looks like it. Don't get me wrong, I hate the man, but not to the degree of outright murder." Dante sighed, tossing the apple core aside. "The Doctor always taught me to find another solution to deal with mad men. Beat them down, lock them up if need be. Make sure they can never hurt another living soul again."

"But that won't work for him," Elizabeth guessed correctly.

"No. Only way to beat him is to either outwit him or..."

The three of them fell silent, eating their fruits and drinking their sodas quietly, weighing the seriousness of the situation in their heads and trying to formulate some sort of plan. Finally Elizabeth spoke up, addressing both of them as she softly asked, "Do you honestly think that a man like Comstock can be redeemed or reasoned with? After all he's done? Slaughtered dozens of innocents in his soldier days, twisting and changing history to fit his so-called glorious image, duping and manipulating his followers and people into believing every word he says and leading them to die for a false cause? All of the other countless atrocities he's no doubt committed that we don't even know about and probably never will...no. He can't be reasoned with, he won't let us go. If...if we find a Tear, or a ship, or something of the sort to get us out of here, I'll take it. I don't care what happens to him, I just want out."

Dante slid his hands across the table to hold hers. "You will get out, I promise you that. No matter what we have to do, who we have to face...we will ALL get out of here, Elizabeth. I swear it on my life. I don't know if Comstock can be reasoned with, or if we can ever get more than two steps ahead of him, or if we can get out of this without having to take his life. But I do know that I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and to protect you. Is that understood?"

Elizabeth, who was honestly touched by this, squeezed his hands and a look of gratitude before nodding. "Understood." But her expression then turned to one of concern. "But why? Why get caught up in this, get dragged into something this dangerous. Helping a stranger who you never met to get a girl you know nothing about in a city who'd do god knows what if you went against their norms. Why would you do that?"

Dante gave her a reassuring smile. "I do what I do because it's right, because it's decent, and above all, because it's kind. I didn't ask to get dragged into this, but here I am anyways, and I will do my best. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Elizabeth smiled back, equally flattered and reassured. She squeezed his hands tightly and the two shared a heated look before Booker almost knocked over his own soda, ending the moment. He shifted uncomfortably when the two turned to him, their hands still clasped together. Dante raised an eyebrow and Elizabeth sighed.

"Sorry," he said at the mirrored look both of them gave him. He figured he'd done something worthy of an apology given that, but he didn't know what. Still, manners were always key, he supposed. "Eh...the two of you—together—I'm still not sure how that happened and I'm not sure I'm going to get used to it anytime soon. Sorry."

"Well, if it's a concern then why not tell us what's on your mind." Dante insisted, he and Elizabeth letting their hands go.

"What? No. I never said it was a concern, where are you getting that? I just—it came completely out of nowhere, is all. But it doesn't matter, so long as you two don't lose sight of why we're heading out in the first place. Speaking of which, we'd better finish up and head out."

"Good point, good point." Dante scooted out of his seat, holding out his hand as he helped Elizabeth from her side of the booth. Reevaluating their gear, they were about to head out before the point that Dante remembered the whole point of stopping there. He went behind the booth and began feeling around before finding the switch.

"What are you doing?" Booker asked, still not used to his partners oddness.

"Watch. Open Sesame!" He flicked the switch, and the lock placed upon the doors to the kitchen were magically unlocked. Dante pushed them open, the interior being that of a standard kitchen at the time. On the counter was a pin up picture of a girl named Sally and on top of it was yellow bottle with the cap head being of a Spartan. He picked it up, looking it over before popping the cap and doused it's contents before placing it back on the counter. The obvious hallucination happened, this time the skin on his hands peeling off and a black substance spreading. Once the vision subsided he inspected his hands for any side effects before Booker asked, "New Vigor?"

"Yeah," Dante nodded, grabbing the rifles and adjusting his pistol strap. "Return to Sender. Odd name for a vigor but that's like the pot calling the kettle black. That aside, I believe it's as the name on the brand says."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you use this vigor, and when enemies shoot at you, the bullets get caught in a shield and are either added to your weapons or you can shoot them back at one enemy, shooting them with several bullets all at once and doing a severe amount of damage. It's pretty handy, actually. Though I bet it's gonna take a lot of Salts, so…"

"Dante, catch!" Elizabeth called out as she threw him a bottle of Salts which he caught with ease.

"Thank you." Downing the contents, he tossed the bottle aside. "Now let's continue onward."

 _ **XxxxxxxX**_

They picked their way through the rest of the small kitchen space and explored what little else the small, previously closed off area had to offer before making their way back the way they came. Finally, they came to a set of stairs, which they of course scaled only to find a bunch of Vox and their own Fireman about to execute a fleeing civilian. Booker opened fire on them, taking out a couple, while the civilian fled and the remaining Vox opened fire only for all of their bullets to be gathered up in a ball floating near Dante's hand. After a moment or two he threw the gathered ball at the Fireman who reeled backwards and exploded, catching a couple of Vox on fire as they and the remainder were gunned down. After rifling through the dead's pockets and refilling on Salts and ammunition, the trio headed up another flight of stairs to see another group of Vox defiling and setting fire to a statue of Comstock. They got into position as Dante sent out a Possession towards the Patriot and Booker a grenade combo of Devil's Kiss and Shock Jockey with a Bucking Bronco to top it off. The automatron took out a few of Vox before it regained it's senses and fired on the trio only for it's bullets to be gathered up thanks to Dante's new vigor and sent back at it, shredding it to pieces. What few Vox were left came charging at the two who either bashed them aside using their skyhook's, blasted them with a vigor or shot them with their respective guns. All that was left was a fireman who was easily dispatched with couple blasts of Shock Jockey as well as a buckshot in the chest an a sniper bullet to the head. Restocking and refueling on Salts, they made their way up another set of stairs past various bodies (guilty and innocent alike-nobody wanted to linger too long on the subject), crudely painted anti-Founder/pro-Vox propaganda, and several locked ticket spaces until they came to a locked gate halting their progress. Elizabeth easily unlocked it as they came under sniper fire from a walkway up above as well as an elevated work platform. Just as Elizabeth opened a tear for cover, one of the Vox yelled, "Dibs on the guns."

"Dibs on the girl." His partner replied, smirking and eyeing Elizabeth in a way that suggested more than just wanting to get her back to the Founders.

This comment didn't go unpunished as Dante bolted from the cover, scrambled up the platform and punched the sniper in the face before turning him around and making him a human shield. After the first Vox accidentally killed his partner and scrambled to reload, Dante pulled out his revolver and shot the man in the leg, causing him to tumble over and fall to the ground, breaking his neck and busting his head open.

Emptying out the spent bullets, Dante filled the revolver with fresh ones before putting it back in his holster. He scavenged what little they two men had before walking back to the others. It wasn't till he was close that he noticed a concern look on Elizabeth's face.

"What is it?"

"That was a bit more...excessive then usual," she said uneasily, not exactly looking him in the eye. "I mean, you used him as a shield and caused that other guy to trip and break his skull for heaven's sake. That's brutal, even for someone like you."

"Well…" Dante rubbed the back of his head, catching on what she meant. "Let's just say I don't tolerate that kind of attitude whether they be friend or foe."

"I see. Well, it's ah...appreciated. Thanks." She attempted a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She still stayed a bit away from Dante's reach, clearly uncomfortable with the brutal display.

"Look, I'll try to keep the brutality to a minimum, I swear." Dante pleaded apologetically, hating the fact he let a bit of his more protective/brutal side bleed through.

"That would also be appreciated."

Up the last flight of steps was a set of turnstiles leading into a room with an elevator in it. Elizabeth took notice of them, frowning and jiggling the bars to see if they would turn. They did, but only one way. She turned back to the others. "These turnstiles are one-way. Should we check out the bookstore before we leave?"

Dante shook his head before Booker could respond. "I don't think we'll find anything of use in there-after all, it's only books. Might as well not waste our time."

Booker nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. "He's right. We can't waste anymore time. We have to get to Comstock."

They went through the doors and found the elevator was locked via a dual-dial.

"Can you open this?"

"It's a simple dual-dial lock. My book says most fools keep the combination no more than twenty feet away."

The duo snorted at that remark. "Let's hope we find one of those fools," Booker remarked.

Snooping around the office, it wasn't until Dante moved aside a couple of books to reveal a notepad with four numbers written on it that they had any success. "This might be it. I've been meaning to ask, why are you so keen on lockpicking and codebreaking?"

"If you put a person in a cage, they develop an interest in such things."

"I suppose so," Dante amended, nodding.

Elizabeth placed a hand on Dante's, smiling warmly though still cautious after his outburst. "And I won't be locked up again, D-" she was cut off by the same whistling tune that came from a nearby Comstock statue. She swiveled around, eyes wide and stance defensive as she looked for the source.

Gesticulating the need for silence, the trio hide behind the counter as the creature approached. It stuck it's head inside, breaking the windows, as it briefly looked around before flying away. Coming out of cover, Elizabeth ran towards the elevator and punched in the codes while Dante approached her

"Elizabeth-"

"Promise me."

"I will stop him."

She turned to him, a willful look in her eyes. "No...that is an oath you cannot keep. But promise me - if it comes to it -" She took Dante's hand and puts it around her throat. "You will not let him take me back."

"It won't come to that," Dante whispered, knowing that technically he spoke the truth but he was certainly fudging the details. Elizabeth however did not, and so she nodded solemnly and turned back to the elevator. Pressing the call button, the doors opened and the trio boarded into it before pushing the down button. The ride down lasted little over a minute until they began witnessing an ongoing fight between the Vox and the Founders.

"The Vox are tearing this place apart," Elizabeth breathed, horrified. She shook her head.

Right when she said that, a duo of rockets hit the near the underside of the elevator, breaking the windows and halting it in its tracks. With no other option, the trio jumped out of the elevator and took the skyway to the nearby platforms. They touched down near the platform that led into Downtown Emporia before beginning to fight both Vox and Founder alike. Elizabeth took cover as usual, meanwhile keeping an eye out for anything useful. The duo of protectors took the troops on like they normally did as they took down the opposing forces easily. Before either could catch their breath, the nearby Vox dropship was destroyed by a Handyman which set itself upon them. Using a combined tactics of Murder of Crows, Shock Jockey, a tear mosquito drone, a Possessed rocketeer and about three magazines each of a carbine and machine gun, they took down the unfortunate abomination.

As the fight ended and they regrouped and restocked, Elizabeth took to unlocking the gate.

"Back there at the shop, what you asked him to do…" Booker started uneasily.

"Let's not discuss it," Elizabeth cut off sharply. There was steel in both her face and her voice. Clearly what had happened was in the heat of the moment but she still meant what she had said and she didn't want the option of changing her mind.

"No, what did that thing do to you?" Booker persisted, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. If she wouldn't tell him then he'd have to figure out himself, either on his own or from Dante—because honestly she had probably told him everything if not a lot. Girl was a bit too trusting in that department, but she was learning.

"If either of you were to take me back...that's death. Or something so like it, I cannot tell the difference." Her words were solemn, and certainly gave the pair something to think about as she fiddled with the lock for another minute or two before declaring the all-clear.

The three banded together and stored through the gates, immediately noticing the torn decorations and the blotchy red painted messages scrawled on the wall, mocking them—Elizabeth specifically. As they proceeded past the gates and further into the area, they noticed vandalized billboards, Vox colors draped across and over various statues and monuments, and rallying war cries written in red paint across the walls alongside the taunts. Corpses filled the path, of the innocent and guilty alike—Founders lay strewn across their hated adversaries, next to them, heads or legs touching, barely a feet apart. Innocents were slumped against walls, over chairs, tables, or thrown carelessly on the floor to be stepped on or tripped over, their lives counted for naught.

To say the least, all of this made even Booker a tad uneasy.

They made their way up a flight of stairs which opened to a plaza leading towards Harmony Lane when a flash of light from a nearby building alerted the trio.

"Sniper, get down!"

Getting to the nearest source of cover, a sign advertising the Emporia Towers, Elizabeth stayed low while Booker and Dante were trying to search for the sniper.

"Lay down some cover fire and I'll see how many." Dante suggested, as he felt he was more equipped to deal with them. Booker nodded in agreement as he began shooting towards the direction of the enemy shots as Dante peaked his head out. He saw one but before he could take the shot, two flashes appeared on the lower roof of the building and the opposite across the street. He retreated before two bullets ricocheted the ground not far from where he stood.

"Counted two more, one on the neighboring building and one below the first sniper."

Booker nodded. "Gotcha." He adjusted his grip on his weapon and rechecked the cartridge on his machine gun. He still had about half of one left, and at least one more somewhere on himself. He looked over at Dante, who seemed to be having the same thoughts. Their weapons reloaded and seemingly okay on ammo, they set their sights to the aforementioned spots. Booker laid down covering fire as Dante took aim and took the first sniper out, before moving on and taking out the one on the neighboring building. The last man tried to take him down before a concentrated fire from Booker took him down.

"Well, that's that, I guess," Dante tried for casual, but it didn't quite feel right.

"I suppose. Shall we continue?"

They did so after resupplying on ammo at the nearby Dollar Bill vending machine and heading deeper into Downtown Emporia.

"Look at those pennants," Elizabeth noted morbidly, wrinkling her nose. "Seems like the Vox have chosen their favorite color."

"Seems about right," Booker added unnecessarily, if only to contribute slightly to the conversation.

"What a waste. How's the city going to come back from this?"

"Maybe it shouldn't." Dante commented coldly, knowing and having witnessed cities like Colombia rise and fall. They were all the same. Not that they knew that.

They came across the main downtown area, spotting some stragglers of a Founders-Vox showdown, which the latter had clearly won. They stayed out of sight as the remaining Founders were gunned down or pushed off the flying city by the victors. So absorbed were they in their revelry, they didn't notice when Booker and Dante positioned themselves in preparation for a surprise attack. The attack started with them giving Elizabeth the queue to summon a turret, confusing the remaining the Vox while the duo threw Possessions at soldier and a Voxified Patriot. They fought the remaining forces off, even taking down a Fireman, before the Vigor wore off as the soldier shot himself and the Patriot was taken down by the the Dante and Booker. After checking the bodies to gather ammo and equipment, they made their way towards Comstock Square.

"You know, I...I keep thinking about that dream you had. New York on fire. There's something about it…" Elizabeth said after some time, turning to Booker. She sounded almost hesitant, as if she was afraid of his answer. But when he simply looked back with an impassive look on his face, she visibly relaxed.

"Hmm," was his only indication that he had even heard her.

They reached Comstock House not too long after, the uncomfortable and sudden silence stretching into several agonizing minutes. Dante tried several times to break it, but every time he tried he aborted the mission before it even began. He finally decided that there was no witty one-liner or well-timed joke he could deliver that would make the tension less strained or awkward. They surveyed the damage done by an apparent shootout between the Founders and Vox-it seemed that both sides lost, as the area itself was littered with the bodies of both, with some civilians sprinkled in for variety.

"Beyond that gate lies Comstock House," Elizabeth pointed at the looming metal structure, purposefully and determinedly ignoring the carnage.

As they reached said gate, it became harder to ignore the metal hand print lock, the hand mold's fingers slender and their girth wide for easier scanning. Elizabeth looked at her own hand, curious, and flexed her fingers. They had just gotten in range when the lion's head right over the hand scanner spoke.

" _Lady Comstock, how lovely to see you! Wonderful of you to make the journey, especially considering your painful death 19 years ago._ "

Booker looked at Elizabeth incredulously. "Lady Comstock?"

"The dress...the thing has mistaken me for my mother. I wonder…" Elizabeth glared at the thing accusingly, frowning. She flexed her fingers again, almost hesitantly. She tried the gate's hand scanner only for the automaton face to reply with, " _Your fingerprints do not seem to be your own today, Lady Comstock. Are you unwell?_ " She winced, drawing her hand back and rubbing it with her other.

"Here, let me try something." Dante pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the lock before looking at the device. "Damn, it's isomorphic. This isn't going to work."

Elizabeth huffed, turning away and beginning to leave. "I think it can."

Booker stared after her, uncomprehending. "Your mother's dead, Elizabeth."

"Yes," she agreed, a cold edge in her tone that neither of them had heard before. Dante knew it wouldn't be the last time. "I think it's time I paid my respects. Let's head to where she's buried.

"Grave robbing, seriously? We're going that far here?" Dante asked, never liking the situation even now experiencing it.

"Yes. What other choice do we have? Besides, she's not using it anymore, so technically we're not robbing anyone. Because, let's be honest-when this whole ordeal is done, will there even be anyone left alive to miss her or it?"

"Good point, but still, this is morbid as hell."

Elizabeth scoffed, still not turning around as the other two reluctantly followed her. "She locked me in a tower, had me experimented on, forcing me to have a murder bird as my only friend and a cruel father who encourages treating certain people like second citizens. Not to mention he _encourages_ slavery and basically runs his utopia in a near police state and put a hit order out on someone he didn't even know. Yeah, mother of the freaking _year._ "

Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fair enough. Fine, let's just get this over with."

From there, they headed towards the Memorial Gardens, Elizabeth running ahead of the two till slowing down just in front of the graveyard. The two didn't waste much time in catching up to her, Dante coming to her side while Booker lingered behind.

"There's the graveyard, where my mother's buried. Come on." She disregarded Dante's worried glance and Booker's conflicted one, making her way closer to the sealed off crypt at the other end of the small cemetery.

"Are you sure about this, Elizabeth?" Booker asked, almost hesitantly.

She didn't answer, either deeming an appropriate one too obvious or simply not hearing him. They reached the memorial which had a gate with no lock, but Elizabeth teared one into existence and began to work on it. She frowned when the lock didn't immediately click, and sighed when Booker cleared his throat, knowing that now there was no way to get out of a confrontation.

"It's your mother's grave."

"They have her preserved in an airtight chamber. Her fingerprints will get us into Comstock House."

"She's your mother."

"You don't know that." Dante stated in a matter of fact tone-despite not liking the situation, he was still defensive of behalf of Elizabeth. She, however, shook her head and scoffed.

"A mother who abandons their child doesn't draw a lot of sympathy in my book."

Booker tried again, despite knowing that it was pointless. "Take a moment to think about what you're doing…"

The tumblers in the lock clicked as it fell to the floor.

"There. Will you open the door or do I have to go in without you?"

Booker sighed as he and Dante pushed the steel gate open as they gathered around the casket of Lady Comstock.

"It's her," Elizabeth breathed, a note of awe and disbelief in her voice. She smirked smugly, walking up to the corpse. "How are you, mother? All locked up in there, huh? Looks like you and I have some common ground."

Dante, who had so far been mostly silent, decided that now was an opportune moment to speak up. "It won't work anyways, Elizabeth. In the first few seconds after we open it, it'll be fine, but after that the decomposition will catch up to her and her skin will wrinkle like a raisin in the sun."

Elizabeth was undeterred. "We'll find a way. I am not leaving without that hand."

As they were about to bust into the coffin, the lights dimmed, a spotlight focusing on where Elizabeth stood. The outside of the crypt and the ceiling inside shifted as what appeared to be speakers came out from the wall. And then, horrifically, a familiar voice on the PA came on.

" _You see, child? You chose to follow the false shepherd and his disciple, and they have led you astray!_ "

Flowing lights came from the speakers and flowed into Elizabeth who began to writhe in pain.

" _What I do, I do for love! What lion does not cringe to see their cub in pain?_ "

"Make it stop! Make it stop! Ahhhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhhhh!"

Booker and Dante took the initiative as they started shooting at the source, which had no effect on the speakers. Of course it didn't-that wasn't their luck. Dante was not looking forward to what was coming next.

" _If you won't listen to me, perhaps you will listen to your mother!_ "

The lights then focused onto Lady Comstock, which had the effect of reanimating her, as she busted out of the glass casket. A shockwave from the ghost knocked the two protectors back, as the spectre loomed in front of Elizabeth for a moment or two before disappearing.

Elizabeth started, looking around wildly. When she spoke, it was as if she was on the verge of tears. "I'm...I don't...no...wh-where did she go?"

"Elizabeth? Are you all right-" Dante tried to console her only to be ignored.

"Where did she go?" she demanded of Booker, who shrugged helplessly.

He tried his own hand at trying to ease her mind, with no success. "Just hold on, you need to rest for a minute."

"No, I'm getting that hand!"

"Why is your mother a ghost?"

"She's not, he...he used me, t-to power that device, he opened up some kind of tear!"

Exiting the display, Lady Comstock's "ghost" appeared and proceeded to shout, " **C** _h_ **i** _l_ **d**! _C_ **h** _i_ **l** _d_! **Y** _o_ **u** _a_ **r** _e_ **t** _h_ **e** _l_ **i** _e_ **t** _h_ **a** _t_ **s** _p_ **e** _w_ **e** _d_ **f** _r_ **o** _m_ **m** _y_ **w** _o_ **m** _b_. **Y** _o_ **u** _a_ **r** _e_ **t** _h_ **e** _l_ **i** _e_ , **t** _h_ **e** _l_ **i** _e_ , **t** _h_ **e** _l_ **i** _e_ , **t** _h_ **e** _l_ **i** _e_!" She then spread out her arms as the nearby corpses of Vox and Founders floated up and then stood straight up before taking up the firearms from the ground. The three watched the horror unfold, only spurring to action when the first zombie-because really, there was nothing else to call them-started shooting at them.

"What's happening?!" one of them-no one was really sure who-yelled as the other zombies joined in.

Dante hefted up his carbine before unloading a few rounds into the nearby reanimated corpse. "It would seem your mother," he took another shot at a nearby undead corpse."...is raising..." he proceeded to take his skyhook and rip off a charging reanimated corpses head. "...the dead!"

"What and how, exactly?" Elizabeth yelled back in response as she searched for a tear to open to aid them in combat.

"Trying to figure that out!" Booker responded, throwing a bolt of Shock Jockey at the nearby undead soldier before blowing it's head off with his shotgun.

Dante then got an idea as he dodged and raced through the undead ranks before getting a few feet away from the Siren. He tossed his sniper aside and picked up a nearby shotgun before shooting directly at it, getting its attention.

"Yo She Bitch, let's go!"

The spectre slashed at him as he jumped back, letting off another two shots and volt of Shock Jockey, which got it more riled up. Booker followed suit as he began firing bursts from his machine gun as well as lobbing a Devil's Kiss. The Siren screamed in annoyance as it teleported to another side of the graveyard, raising more fallen soldiers from the dead. Dante quickly refocused his sights on the creature, firing off a few more shots before needing to reload, so he left it to Booker for the precious seconds it took. Of course the incoming fire of the Siren's undead forces was a problem as their shields shattered as they had to take cover. Elizabeth, who'd been scrounging around the battlefield and avoiding the undead, saw this as she grabbed two Salt bottles before sprinting over to both of their locations.

"Catch!"

She chucked one bottle each to them as they downed the contents and started using their Vigors. Going on the offensive, Dante used Return to Sender to catch the incoming bullets while chucking the clumped lead towards the Siren, meanwhile Booker used Bucking Bronco raise the undead off the ground before shooting them down like fish in a barrel. With the forces dealt with, either being dismembered by heavy fire or Vigors, the two focused their fire onto the Siren. The combined force of their firepower made the Siren scream, as it teleported into thin air as all the reanimated corpses dropped dead. The three took the time to regroup and resupply, Dante managing to find his discarded sniper as he dropped the spent shotgun, before gathering near a set of open graves.

"What is she?" Booker asked, not wanting to believe what he'd just witnessed but he knew that it did happen.

Elizabeth looked down at her hands, and at the space where her pinky would be if whatever tragedy had made her lose it had never occured. "I don't know...what am I? My god, is she the source of my power?" Her voice was shaky and she took several shallow breaths to try and calm herself.

"Elizabeth, no. How could that be?" Dante elaborated. "I mean unless she had these powers before she died, they would've disappeared with her when she did die. Otherwise, you're abilities would cease to be. Also, might I mention, if she'd had these powers in the first place, I doubt whoever killed her would have been able to do so so easily."

"But what _is_ she, then? Alive or dead?" Booker asked, knowing that he wouldn't get a straight answer-and even if he did, it would be a very complicated one, the sort that required long-winded explanations and pictures that he couldn't even begin to understand.

"Why do you ask _what_ -"

"-when the delicious question is _when_?"

The trio turned to see the strange duo had appeared in the graveyard, digging deeper into the premade graves with the tombstones having the name Lutece engraved on them.

"The only difference between past and present," one started, and which the other finished, "...is semantics."

Robert smiled, as if both what he was saying and what he was doing were not polar opposites. "Lives, lived, will live," he proclaimed happily.

"Dies, died, will die," said his female counterpart, far more seriously.

"If we could perceive time as it truly was…"

"...what reason would grammar professors have to get out of bed?"

"Like us all, Lady Comstock exists ACROSS time…"

"She is both alive and dead."

"She perceives being both."

"She finds this condition…" the woman actually trailed off, looking at her companion with a mild look of helplessness, before shrugging. "...disagreeable." she wrinkled her nose. Clearly she was not pleased with her own choice of word, but she went back to her task and her back and forth conversation with her twin.

"Perception without comprehension…"

"...is a dangerous combination."

"Look! Footsteps…" Elizabeth pointed at the ground and sure enough, they looked down to see glowing footprints on the ground leading off from the graveyard into another part of the city.

Rosalind stopped her grave digging, placing her shovel firmly in the ground and leaning on it, though Dante strongly suspected that it was only for show. "She goes to unfinished business," she commented quietly, her voice matter-of-fact in spite of the situation.

Booker looked after the footprints, then turned to the other two. "We have to follow her, convince her to open the gate to Comstock House." He turned back to see the two had disappeared and the trio decided to follow the footprints. The prints led them to a secondary entrance into the graveyard where the two were standing in the way.

Robert looked at Booker with something akin to pity, though the why remained unclear. "It is a shame you have need of her to enter Comstock House."

Rosalind nodded in agreement, treating him to an impassive look of her own. "Frankly, she doesn't seem all that cooperative."

"There is a way to bring her to reason."

"Three truths you must discover first."

"Truths which, in this world, Comstock has destroyed."

"If only one of you had power to alter time and space…"

"That would be a blessing, wouldn't it?"

"Mmm."

A flash of lighting blinded the the three, and as soon as it was over, the mysterious duo had once again disappeared.

"Well...they're sarcastic." Booker commented, dryly, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, some, but not enough to make a difference. Dante chuckled and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, though there was the hint of a smile on her face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

They were making their way towards the Market District when Elizabeth slowly realized something.

"There's something...off about Lady Comstock."

"Yeah, I noticed." Booker commented sarcastically, not taking his eyes off of the path.

"N-no, you don't understand, she...she doesn't belong here. I brought something through, it's just...I'm not so sure it was her."

The trio turned a corner into the market square, only to find a group of Vox straggling about that were quickly dealt with precise shots and Vigors. They follow the footprints to the doorsteps of Lutece Laboratories which was locked. Of course Elizabeth got to work on it and a few minutes later they were inside, passing by a reception area, and into the house itself. Obviously it was decorated in the usual high standards of Colombia's one percent but also had an abundance of books, chalk boards and wiring leading into the main room. Following it, they come across a machine, that was applied with the wires and tesla coils, and was sparking and sputtering before it made a tear.

"There's something in there. Should I open it?"

The other two nodded the go ahead as she does, and, while not see the scene, hear one involving Lady Comstock.

" _You...you whore!_ "

Elizabeth gasped, looking into the tear and stepping closer as if that would make the quality of the voices sharper and the blurry outlines of people clearer. "That's my mother!"

Rosalind-because yes, indeed it was she, surprisingly to the three of them (well, two of them anyways)-said, in a rather bored and obviously fake-placating tone: " _I assure you, madam, my sexual interest in your dear Prophet is nonexistent."_

"And Madam Lutece…" Elizabeth decided to point out the obvious, if only as a way to express her astonishment.

" _Furthermore, the man is quite sterile." the other Rosalind continued, unaware of their interruption._

" _That's a lie! Come and get your little bastard, I want her out of my house!"_ the other woman screamed angrily-though there was an odd note to her voice, as if she somehow realized that she was being ridiculous and unreasonable, but did not care. With that, the tear then proceeded to close, letting the trio gather their thoughts on the first bit of rediscovered evidence.

"Sterile?" Booker pondered.

"They weren't my parents…" she sounded amazed and impassive all at the same time.

"That's good though isn't it?" Dante pointed out, a hint of enthusiasm lining his voice.

Elizabeth looked conflicted, and glared at Dante at the happiness in his voice at such a bad time (though she not-so-secretly agreed), but she nodded. "Right, well, then I suppose that begs the question: what happened to my real parents? Did they give me up or was I taken? And, more importantly, what was I to them?"

Dante's mood dampened a tad as he too came to that realization. "A child that they decided to imprison," he stated bluntly after a moment. He shook his head. "Though I can't say she deserved whatever Comstock did to her."

"What did you mean before, when you said Lady Comstock didn't belong here?" Booker asked, Elizabeth's earlier statement still rattling in his head.

"She's almost...feral. It's like a reflection of...umm, I don't know."

 _ **XxxxxX**_

Leaving the Lutece's former home, they followed the prints which made their way towards the Financial District. After dispatching a Fireman, once again they found their way gated and locked off but this time Dante took to unlocking the lock with his sonic screwdriver. The way led back near Harmony Lane, where they started from the elevator, which confused them for a moment before seeing the trail lead up a set of stairs into Bank of the Prophet. But before they could go in a two Crows, a Fireman and a Vox came through the door. After a few minutes of trading shots and Vigors the trio went inside the bank but made sure to bypass the bodies.

"What could this place have to do with my mother?" Elizabeth puzzled to herself.

The ground shook and the lights dimmed for a brief moment, as well as a whispering voice plagued the air before everything was normal. They all got inside the elevator that descended down to the lower reaches of the bank. Once they walked off it, they engaged in a short firefight with them before starting to find the glowing prints once again.

"The footsteps seem to go down to the vault…" Booker surmised. "Best we take a look. What do you think, Elizabeth, should we head down there first or look around?"

Elizabeth, pleased with his line of thinking, actually cracked something akin to a smile. "I think we should check around first. Perhaps there are more clues or supplies lying around."

"And anything else of interest," added Dante. "I mean, aside from finding out what these tears hold, maybe there's something Comstock overlooked. Hard to believe, all things considered, but you never know."

They began to snoop around the office, picking up ammo and anything else that looked even remotely important. Dante took to pulling random books off the shelves and flipping through them to see any pertinent information while Elizabeth looked at open ledgers and accountant desks.

"Fifty percent!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"What's that?" The other two asked almost simultaneously, looking up from what they were doing.

"Fifty percent of everything people earn here goes right to Comstock as a tithe."

Booker whistled in amusement. "I gotta get me a job in the prophet business."

Dante nearly let out a snicker but held it in. Oh, how utterly ironic Booker's statement was. He decided that they didn't need to know anything before they learned it themselves. Regrouping, they reached the tear and after dispatching a Crow, Elizabeth opened it.

Fink's voice floated from the rip in time, fizzling in and out of existence and clarity. " _And if I do this, this...uh...sabotage, all their patents...?_ "

Another man, one whose voice did not have a face for any of them, spoke, reassuring the corrupt businessman. " _All of them, Mr. Fink._ "

Fink chuckled darkly, and they could hear the grin on his face as he continued. " _Now, why does the Prophet want these two killed?_ "

" _For the same reason Lady Comstock lies buried: the child._ "

" _And why does he want me to do it?_ "

" _Because only you can make it seem an accident._ "

The tear closed once again, and where it had been there was a voxophone in its place. Dante grabbed it, but didn't play it, as all of them were too swept up in the thoughts that this particular revelation had evoked.

"I don't think that's the _real_ Lady Comstock," Elizabeth said after a while, as they started back the way they had come. "I think she's...I think she's a combination of herself and my feelings towards her."

"What do you mean?" Booker asked.

"I'm just so angry, at her and at my father. I think she's her but she's also partly me. I-I'm not even sure I understand it myself."

"Hate to say it, it doesn't make much sense to me either. I mean he did use you but how she's acting...I say it's a mix of anger and confusion."

A wispy mist formed as it led them towards the safe/ As it began to open, a familiar yelling voice was heard on the opposite side, making Elizabeth's stomach churn with dread, Booker groan loudly as he raised his gun, and Dante do the same, raising his other hand and charging up a vigor in preparation.

" **N** _o_ **t** _o_ **f** _m_ **y** _w_ **o** _m_ **b**! _N_ **o** _t_ **o** _f_ **m** _y_ **w** _o_ **m** _b_ , **n** _o_ **t** _o_ **f** _m_ **y** _w_ **o** _m_ **b** , _N_ **O** _T_ **O** _F_ **M** _Y_ **W** _O_ **M** _B_!" she shrieked, the torn fabric of her gown floating wildly around her. The strands seemed to glow along with her as they alternated between wrapping themselves around her and shooting out to surround her, much like her zombified minions. They rose from seemingly nowhere, looking for their query and finally spotting it in the other side of the room. Dante raised his gun, Booker did the same (he also flexed his left hand, summoning whichever Vigor he had equipped at the moment), and Elizabeth started to search for ammo, salts and health kits.

Once again, the duo fought off the revived minions for a good while, before drawing their attention and fire towards the Siren herself. After a barrage of bullets and vigors, she dispersed as whatever revived corpse fell back dead. Regrouping and resupplying, they went back to the elevator that led them down their and took it back up to the foyer. The prints then led them...back to where they started. All three shared a slight look of annoyance before they tracked them right back through Harmony Lane straight into a photography shop. After the locked door was picked, they walked in and were faced with yet another tear.

" _But you two are dead...I took your funeral photo!"_ the voice of a man-the owner, most likely-exclaimed. He sounded terrified and disbelieving, as if whomever he'd spoken to had appeared out of thin air, which given whom he was most likely talking about, they had.

This suspicion was confirmed when certain a posh female voice affirmed his statement. " _Yes...and made an absolute hash of it…"_ Rosalind sniffed.

" _One doesn't expect a picture of one's corpse…"_ Robert chipped in, trailing off before he finished-not for lack of things to say or the means to say them, but to let his twin, in her usual fashion, finish the thought-

" _...to come across so lifelessly."_

With this being the final tear, they headed back towards Comstock House. While en route, the trio dealt with a small group of Vox, two grenadiers and one regular troop. After a quick double use of Possession and a bullet to the head for the latter, they continued forward until reaching the staircase that led to the mansion. It was here Dante said, "Before we move onward, let's discuss everything we've learned so far."

Elizabeth started them off, frowning intently as she tried to process it all. "He killed Lady Comstock...the Luteces…"

"And anybody who knew the truth was better dead than alive." Booker finished.

"I'm not even his daughter…" Elizabeth, strangely, sounded somewhat heartbroken, though both doubted it was because of her parentage, or rather lack thereof. Her next sentence reaffirmed this. "I'm just some...specimen to be poked and prodded…"

Dante shook his head. "No...no, you're not. Elizabeth, listen to me, what you've been through is something nobody else in the world deserves." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which she held gingerly.

"Dante-"

"We're gettin' outta here, you got it?" Booker reassured, ruining the moment as he had hoped. He hefted up his shotgun. "And you're never gonna have to look back."

Elizabeth, although taken aback by the fierceness of their loyalty, obviously appreciate it all the same, as she nodded appreciatively, reaching over to squeeze Dante's hand. She gave Booker a smile as well, nodding in his direction. "Thank you. Both. For...for everything."

They reached the front of Comstock House as Liz speaks to the statue of Lady Comstock. All the while, the Siren made herself heard, whispering an eerie tune mixed with hated insults hurled at herself, at the Prophet, and at Elizabeth, who continued to speak like nothing was happening.

"Rosalind Lutece is not my mother...and neither are you. But he killed you both...because of me. I know you hate me for not being your daughter, and I hated you for not being my mother."

Once again, the Siren resurrected the surrounding dead Founders and Vox as the duo prepared themselves for one last round with the undead. The Siren screeched and hissed, pointing fingers and outstretched arms in every direction raising her army of the undead. Some had even been killed by the duo earlier, only to be put down once again. Dante and Booker fought tooth and nail, switching between their Vigors, weapons and skyhooks to put all of the undead back down. It wasn't until the last one fell that they once again drew their attention back at the Siren. Dante ditched his now spent sniper rifle for a machine gun as he opened fire on it, as did Booker who used a combo of Shock Jockey and Devil's Kiss until he ran dry of Salts. Just when it seemed they'd ran out, the Siren yelled and teleported over to the statue, circling while spouting nonsense and woe.

Elizabeth stepped out of her hiding spot, still clutching a vial of Salts she had been about to throw to Booker. She walked up to where the Siren was still echoing her haunting tune, and spoke loudly to be heard over the din. "I owe you an apology," she started, and while it initially aggravated the Siren even more, she continued, afraid but determined.."Comstock used me to bring you back, but...I brought back a version of you from the reality I had built up in my own head. He pretended to love you, like he pretended to love me. I am not your husband's bastard; I am his victim. But my days of victimhood are done. We must forgive each other...because there is one far worse than you or I."

At this, the Siren paused, coming to face Elizabeth and tilting her head curiously as she regarded her. The ominous glow around her seemed to soften, becoming less sharp and hostile as she hovered closer to the ground. " _The Prophet...killed me…_ " she began, uncertainly. Elizabeth nodded eagerly in affirmation.

"Because you wouldn't keep his secret...about me."

" _If that is so, then why am I alive?_ "

"You're not...not in this world. But maybe this is you in another...a world where you never meet him…"

" _Never_ …" the Siren looked stunned at even the possibility, looking around bewildered before her eyes settled on Booker, who was looking at her with a strange expression of his own. She mirrored the expression almost perfectly, and her arm reached out gently towards him before she aborted the movement and spoke again, but never took her eyes off him. " _Is it possible that I am from a world where I saved him?_ "

"I don't know. Is something like that possible?"

" _Find out, child...find out," s_ he whispered, almost tenderly now, as she lifted her eyes heavenward and screeched one final time before rushing forward in a furious gust of wind and smoke, and when the smoke cleared, the house gates had been melted open.

They began to walk forward before Elizabeth turned to the two. "Dante, Booker...thank you…"

 _ **XxxxxX**_

They made their way through the busted iron gate and came across a set of double doors, which Booker promptly opened for the pair. Upon entering those as well, they were almost immediately hit with an icy blast of wind, and Dante shuddered while Elizabeth's arms immediately went up to rub at her now cold arms. Booker seemed entirely unaffected, but there was a telling set to his jaw that told otherwise. The three noticed upon walking further that there was yet another gondola line in front of them, and though none could see past the blinding fog enveloping the atmosphere from up here, all bets were that it led to Comstock House itself. Booker reached to pull the level to summon the machine, but no sooner had he that the telltale screeching of Songbird filled the air. He rose from the air in front of Booker, causing him to trip a few steps back as he instinctively shielded Elizabeth, who scrambled back several steps. She and Dante watched, horrified, as Songbird tackled him and Elizabeth screamed "Booker!" as Booker yelled at her to run.

The woman in question looked half horrified, half terrified, and all conflicted. She grabbed Dante's upper arm and began to drag him away, never taking her eyes off of Booker, but stopped dead when Songbird lifted him up and hurled him through a much higher window out of sight. The last thing Booker heard was the shattering of glass panes and Elizabeth's horrified screams from far away, down below.

 _ **XxxxxX**_

The first thing he hears, before opening his eyes, is the steady but frantic _thump, thump, thump_ of his own heart-no, not his heart, just the blood pounding in his ears-or are they the same thing? Booker can't tell at the moment, and he doesn't really care either. What he does care about is finding out why nothing hurts despite being defenestrated what he assumes is just moments earlier. Faintly, he thinks he still hears Elizabeth's screams, but as he comes to more and more and opens his eyes, the sound fades, and the screaming is replaced by a soft twinkling noise, like that of a music box. Blearily, he opens his eyes.

The twinkling sound increases, as does the sound of blood roaring in his ears. He hears two voices, very familiar, chanting something- _something, something something_ -but he can't make it out. He looks up, and they are staring down at him with the most impassive look he's ever seen on someone, especially someone uttering _those words_ back to him.

"Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt."

Their voices are joined as one, morphed and twisted into sounding demonic and angry when there is no sign of such emotion on either face. They repeat the mantra, their voices growing louder and angrier with each passing second, and though their voices rise and crack, their faces remain completely unbiased. It is then that Booker realizes their voices are not the only ones speaking-there is another voice, that of a young woman, a young woman that he has grown quite close to, and he turns to find her leaning against the desk pushed against the wall, murmuring the same words with none of the intensity and all of the empty expression the twins wear. She does not sound angry; she does not sound hurt, or accusing, or any of the expressions Booker knows she should be feeling, but why she should be feeling these things or how he knows that she should are a mystery to him, on the tip of his tongue and yet unreachable. She sounds resigned, expectant, mournful. He does not understand why, but he doesn't get a chance to ask. He does not want to.

He moves to exit what he now recognizes as his old apartment, as dilapidated and pathetic as ever, only to find the twins blocking his way, their chanting silenced as soon as he stands. He tries pushing past, but quickly realizes the futility, and looks around for another way. He knows there isn't. But there is another door; he doesn't remember that door. That's good, right? He moves towards it, hand slightly outstretched in anticipation for the knob, and his fingers close around it as he turns and-

The screaming returns. Booker's vision is temporarily blinded by a searing white light, and someone is screaming and another is shouting profanities and _he doesn't understand, what's going on,_ and then he remembers. He scrambles to regain his senses, vision still impaired as he finally puts a name to the two disembodied voices. Dante is the one shouting, a few bullets here and there and several pleas to _just let her go, you metal bastard,_ and Elizabeth is screaming-at him? At Dante, begging him to just let her go, it's safer if he takes her back, they know where to find her- _please, I can't let either of you die, this is my fault._ He wants to join Dante, refuse to let Elizabeth go without the biggest fight he can muster, but as it turns out there's no fight left in him. He can't move, for some reason, and it's only then that all the pain comes rushing back to him all at once, every nerve in his system on fire and his legs hurt and his ribs ache and he thinks he's bleeding somewhere (probably several somewheres actually) but he can't tell. He manages to sit up in time to witness Songbird eyeing Elizabeth warily, as she says words Booker can't make out, but the bird seems to like it; as Dante reaches for her last minute, she reaches back, but before their hands can touch she's being swept away by the metal monstrosity and they're left alone before anyone can process much of anything.

Dante's attention snaps to him not more than a minute later, seemingly gathering his wits about him before rushing over to assist Booker. Belatedly, he realizes that the young teen is speaking to him, and forces himself to pay attention. "...and you're hurt," he says, helping the older man to his feet. His legs are wobbly and he nearly falls over, but he manages. Dante is speaking again before Booker's brain can catch up. "..took her...get her back...this way...you stand?...can you move? Booker? Booker, are you listening? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," he grumbles after a second. "Yeah, I'm fine. Elizabeth…"

Dante nodded, his mouth forming a thin line on his face as he helped Booker sit down properly before heading back over to where he had been previously. He leaned down and snatched something from the ground before taking it back to Booker, still inspecting it. As he came closer he recognized it as Elizabeth's bandolier-she must have taken it off before being abducted, he realized. Dante set it on the ground and took out some of the ammo stashed in it, either loading it into his own weapon or placing it on his person. After a minute or two, Booker began to do the same, reloading his weapons but not taking any more than was needed. Eventually, Dante set his weapons to the side and fiddled with the straps of the cloths before pulling it on himself, tightening or loosening where it was needed. He gathered his weapons again, and when he looked at Booker there was a determined glint in his eyes that Booker knew all too well.

"Let's get that feathered piece of shit." Dante said before jumping out of the whole Songbird left and latching onto a nearby hook. Booker followed suit as the duo landed on the bridge and double timed it towards the mansion. They were halfway through when fog clouded their vision before clearing to reveal the House and…

"Snow? It's July…" Booker said, bewildered. Last he checked, it was the middle of summer and now it was snowing and as cold as winter. Pushing that aside, he yelled out, "Elizabeth! Can you hear me?"

From a tear in the entrance, they could hear her yelling, frantic and panicked, and strained as if she were struggling.

" _Get your hands off of me!_ "

It wasn't until they entered the building another tear appeared with Elizabeth's voice now pleading, " _Just take me back to my tower. Please...Please!_ "

They enter into the main building inside to find a gigantic statue of Elizabeth, short hair and all. The gown she wore as a statue did not match the one they had last seen her in, though there were some definite similarities. Her face, though etched in stone, looked weary but determined as she held her sword high above her head.

"Is that...? What the hell?"

Dante had decided to stay silent until needed, wanting to let Booker soak up what had transpired around them. A recording of the girl's voice suddenly sounded on the PA, but something was off; it sounded strong, yet weary. It was Elizabeth.

" _Some men dream of money, some men dream of love. My father dreamt of a flood of fire. We were given Eden, and we turned it into Sodom. Why do we deserve salvation? The Lord gave Noah a fish in the form of a flood. But he was not so easy on me... He said: Prophet, I want you to train a nation of fishermen._ "

They moved past the unsettling statue and towards a set of doors through where they could hear whimpering from the rooms beyond. At first the voice was unrecognizable as one they recognized, but as they came closer and the whimpering turned into whispered words both of their stomachs dropped.

" _What is this place? What are you planning to do to me? Please! I don't understand! Ahhhh, ahhhh! Please! Please, no, no! No! NOOO! Please...please, just tell me what I did! NOO! Please...please just let me go! Just...just let me go! No, please! I'll be...I'll be your daughter. I'll be your daughter! I'll be...I'll be your daughter, please!_ "

Booker was equal parts pissed and horrified. Despite the bumps in the jump and trying to figure out their final destination, he'd taken a shine to the girl. But now, hearing her suffer and in pain like this, even he couldn't stomach it. He had been a soldier, a commander of the 7th Cavalry at Wounded Knee all those years ago. He had seen young boys barely old enough to enlist slaughter and be slaughtered in turn, he had seen people he considered close beheaded or dismembered on the line of fire, women and children massacred as they stormed their camps and invaded their homes. He had seen unimaginable, indescribable horrors, and he had eventually gotten used to it-but hearing her now, that old, almost forgotten feeling of fear and revulsion.

Dante was feeling the same stir of emotions, and the memories of the battles and wars he took part in haunted him. Though, unlike Booker, he had them more under control,as he already knew what events were to transpire and was prepared for it. Still, even he had a hard time listening to this kind of torment, and no amount of hours replaying this level in a video game could ever prepare him for the real thing. Her screams were different here, more real and shrill and wet, as if she were crying. 'Of course they are, because this is actually happening.'

Walking through the doors, they found themselves in some sort of rehabilitation centre. A bunch of what can only be described as lunatics wearing masks of either George Washington, Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson holding cudgels were in their way. Only they didn't do anything, only stand in place and do nothing. That was until the duo rounded the corner of an elevator shaft in the middle of the room to be meet with someone or something outfitted in blue suits that are reminiscent of a school uniform. It's most noticeable feature was its large metal helmet which obscured its face. The helmet appeared to have been fitted onto leather shoulder straps, fastened on by metal clamps, and padlocked shut. The uniform it was wearing were too short for its arms and the trousers were torn, though it's hands show a form of deterioration of advanced age.

It took one look at them and emitted a high-pitched whine that stopped almost as soon as it started, and then disappeared with a burst of light. The now dormant lunatics snapped at attention as they raised their cudgels and charged the duo. Considering they're trying to conserve ammunition, they parried the clubs with their skyhooks all the while aiming their gun barrels at their heads and firing. By the end of the fight, their arms were somewhat bruised, a small portion of their ammo extinguished, and what little patience they had had left completely drained.

"Dammit! We gotta find a way in."

"We'll probably have to go all the way up to the warden's office to get in," Dante commented.

Booker groaned in annoyance as he hit the intercom.

"All right...listen. We just want to see the girl," he said into the intercom. He released the button a few moments later, realizing he wouldn't get an answer. He turned away, facing Dante and shook his head. "Who were those… doesn't matter. Let's get to the warden's office."

Like they were heard, the elevator came down the shaft and within it a tear. Once again they heard Elizabeth, this time talking with someone whose voice they did not recognize.

" _Please...please, what is this place? Just...just send me back to my tower!_ "

" _It's too late for that now, child. Your father gave you a lovely home, and you chose to destroy it…_ "

" _He's NOT my father_!"

The tear disappears as the two walked into the elevator. As Booker pressed the button to make it ascend, Dante noted a voxophone in the corner as he picked it up and pressed the play button.

" _I suppose the Siphon is a kind of leash. Yes, my father put it on me, it when the time came, neither did I remove it myself. What would happen if I took off the leash, and I found I was...as obedient as ever?_ "

The town that her voice took was unknown to both of them, at least coming from her. It was broken, and yet resolute; determined, yet weary. Like someone who had just gotten done with a fight but wanted to continue, despite every limb in their body screaming for rest and the fight being over. Just as they stepped out the elevator and headed toward the atrium, the PA once again played a recording of Elizabeth.

" _Like my father, I can see all that would be, might be and must not be._ " The same steely determination is present in her voice, with a hint of something that the two didn't want to think about where they had heard it before. They didn't reach the entrance of the atrium until they were once again spotted by a Boy of Silence, who screeched horribly before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Like before, the surrounding dormant lunatics once again charged them. This time the duo used a combo of Bucking Bronco and their guns to bring them down. They reloaded before taking notice of their surroundings. The place was pretty run down, windows with no glass and rubble and debris blocking off certain doors. Searching what seemed to be an operating theater, which floors were covered in dry blood, another tear was in the center of the room. This time they heard Elizabeth's voice and a voice they were all to familiar with.

" _Child, would you like to pray with me?_ " Comstock asked, sincerely mocking, and Dante could hear the smirk in his voice.

" _They're hurting me. Please, just let me go!"_ Elizabeth pleaded, but she sounded as though she knew where her pleas would get her.

" _We're going to cure you."_

" _I'm not sick!"_ she spat venomously, the sneer evident by her tone alone.

" _Your spirit is."_ He then let out a sigh, still with that same sickening, obviously fake and placating tone. " _All I ever wanted is to see you live up to your potential._ "

" _Screw you,_ " she spat, and Comstock laughed. The tear closed, leaving a foreboding

feeling in the pits of their stomachs.

They continued through into what looked like a bathing area, another tear appearing at the end of the room. Elizabeth was once again heard with a familiar voice, but not Comstock, the unknown voice from before.

" _I'm Dr. Pettifog, Elizabeth, and I'll be taking care of you._ " The physician greeted with false cheer.

" _Get away from me._ "

" _Defiant, even after all this time. DeWitt and his follower just left you here. You need to give up on them, love._ "

" _They will come._ " The conviction in her voice warmed them both only the slightest bit, but it left a daunting question in its wake-just how long had she been here already?

Moving to the next room, which seems to be a shared bedroom of sorts, where once again where their dormant lunatics and a Boy of Silence. They could see another tear at the end of the room, they either needed to sneak past or deal with the threat head on. It was then an idea popped into Dante's head as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began fiddling with it.

"What are you doing?" Booker hissed quietly, knowing that the sound of the device would cause the Boy to go off. He was not particularly looking forward to another tussle with the Lunatics.

"Setting a frequency so it'll be stunned." Dante explained taking aim at the creature. "On my mark we'll make a run towards the tear." Flicking the device on, it made a high pitched whirring sound that even Booker had to shield his ears from. The Boy however, shook its head violently, in too much pain to even scream. After a few moments the boy collapsed on the floor before disappearing, the lunatics dropped dead on the floor.

"Huh. Didn't think that would work." Dante commented.

They made their way to the next tear where they could hear an argument between Pettifog and another doctor.

" _The specimen needs to be destroyed!_ " Pettifog sounded terrified, pleading with seemingly another doctor with a note of urgency in his voice. " _We couldn't even hold her in that tower, and now the Prophet_ -"

" _Destroy the Lamb...his heir?_ "

" _If we modify the procedure, we could... It would be safer for everyone. It would seem an accident…_ "

As the tear closed Dante scoffed. "I don't believe that man has had any medical experience."

As the duo neared a set of stairs, two turrets immediately opened fire on them. They immediately threw Possessions at them as they automatons turned on two nearby Founders and a Crow. Said Crow disappeared and the Vigor wore off making the duo dispatch the automated machines. They took care of the Crow with a combo of Bucking Bronco and Devil's Kiss as their assailant burned alive. While all this was happening, Elizabeth's voice once again sounded on the PA.

" _And what did the Lord receive in return for his gifts? Eve and her apple? Sodom and Gomorrah? Humanity wrote a bad check, and the flood was the only way to settle the accounts. For what is Columbia, if not a different ark, in a different time?_ "

After looting the charred remains of the Crow, they moved up the stairs and went to the right, finding nothing but a tear. This time it was Pettifog speaking to Elizabeth

" _You're not eating, love. Is something the matter_?" His voices was laced with fake sympathy and absolute mockery, but there was surprisingly a hint of concern in his voice. However, Dante expected that it stemmed more from the fact that were Elizabeth not to eat, she would eventually starve to death, and that just wouldn't do.

" _I'm not hungry._ " Elizabeth's voice was still laced with rebellion and defiance. But there was something off about it—it sounded more tired than before.

" _You'll need to eat sooner or later. If you hold out for DeWitt and that other fellow, you'll just starve to death. Come now…_ "

The tear closed, and Dante frowned deeply as the voices faded until they were no more. What were these tears, what memories did they hold and just how many? Just how long had Comstock had Elizabeth now? He pondered this some more as they moved to the other side and before finding another tear right before the next room. Pettifog could be heard with Comstock himself this time. Just the sound of the other man's voice made his blood run cold.

" _The child is ready. It's time._ " His tone was steady and assured as always, his voice brimming with false cheer and warmth.

" _Prophet, even if we cure her...why do you think she'll do what you ask?_ " the doctor asked hesitantly.

" _My daughter has two problems, doctor. One is the condition your science will cure her of. The other affliction is of a spiritual nature._ "

" _What affliction is that?_ "

" _Hope._ "

They moved to next room, a cavalcade of masks plaguing it, as this one had a tear as well.

"Your surgery is tomorrow, you know. You better eat. Hmmm...you still expect DeWitt and his helper to burst in and rescue you, don't you? It's been six months."

"Six months?" Booker whispered, horrified, he looked over at Dante, eyes widened. "She's been here for six months already? How is that even possible? We went after Songbird as soon as we could walk."

"Well, it's possible we walked right through a tear. The fog was so thick, even I couldn't see my hand if I stuck it out in front of me."

Booker didn't have a response to that. And so the partners continued onward, their questions unanswered. They eventually came across another Boy of Silence in a room filled with Lunatics. Dante repeated the same process, upping the decibels to be safe, and once again the Boy and loons dropped dead. Overstepping the bodies, the duo moved past a screening room when Elizabeth's voice spoke over the PA.

" _Two men once promised me they would free me of my chains. But in the end, they abandoned me to serve their own needs. But, in some ways, I thank them: they showed me exactly how much faith our species deserved. God put his faith in men once, too. It seems that we have something in common: disappointment."_ Here she stopped, seemingly in thought. When she next spoke _,_ her voice was softer than before, but that steel was still present, underlying the almost fond tone she carried. It did not fit the topic. " _I did not always love the Prophet. In truth, I...ran from his embrace. I even denied that I was his."_ A small, albeit inaudible laugh here—or was it closer to a scoff? " _I followed a man who seemed to be everything my father was not and another who promised me something I thought impossible. But those men...one was a False Shepherd, and the other, his black wolf. And when the wolves came for me? They were_ _ **nowhere**_ _to be found._ "

No words needed to be said as the two knew that she was referring to them. Dante saw Booker's shoulder slump a fraction and his facial features tighten as Dante felt himself tense uneasily. They had to fix this.

In the end Dante and Booker made it to the warden's office. The latter flipped a switch as the camera feed showed the once locked door now open.

"Should be able to head downstairs and get to Elizabeth now."

Just as they turned around, a Boy of Silence stood right behind them as it screamed and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. It wasn't till they were able to get the spots out of their eyes the manage to see incoming Founders. Dante was having none of it, as he walked forward with Return to Sender active as he caught their bullets and sent them back in an explosive clump. Booker followed up by shooting at the remaining Followers and once again the two stood unopposed. As before the PA turned on and Elizabeth's voice sounded from it.

" _I am here to finish my father's work. As he baptized me with water, I shall baptize the Sodom Below with fire...and prepare for the coming of the Lord. Are we worth saving if we will not save ourselves? There will be no salvation until fire floods the cities and covers the plains. Once this world has been born again, a million others wait their turn. Baptism is the rebirth of the spirit...but sometimes the mind gets in the way. If the mind will not yield, then you must expose the mind to every version of itself. Either the mind will yield, or be reduced to a blank._ "

After taking out another group of Founders, the duo trekked back towards the now unlocked gate. They could still hear Elizabeth's pleading and screaming ringing out in the distance. Dante cringed internally while Booker's scowl deepened. They hurried their steps, frantic in their search.

"Hold tight!"

It wasn't until they turned a corner that they found...

"What, it's a tear... What is it- "

Not only did they find that the screams were coming from a tear, they also came face to face with a certain duo, which at this point was becoming annoying rather than endearing.

"Why do you ask _what_ —"

"...when the delicious question is _when_?"

"Lives, lived, will live."

"Dies, died, will die."

The lights just above the door flickered on and off as the duo disappeared. Entering the room and turning a corner, the two find Elizabeth, in the flesh, a little ways beyond. There was something off about her—her stance was slumped yet standing tall, as if she'd finally given up on a battle she had fought for so long.

"As you two can see, the lunatics are running the asylum. They don't even listen to me anymore. All I can do is watch as what I set in motion slides into its terminal stage. It took all I had left in me just to bring you both here. "

"E-Elizabeth, I don't understand! We heard you screaming, We were...we were coming to get you! Are we-"

Elizabeth reached her hands down. "Here...take my hand..."

As they two got closer, both taking a hand, the light revealed her to look old, aged and grey. She pulled them onto a vista to watch a 1984 New York burning.

"The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flame the mountains of man." She chuckled ruefully, turning away from them and gesturing to the burning city with a wave, and when she next spoke her voice was filled with bitterness and resentment—but not directed at them. "Say what you will about Comstock, he was a hell of a fortune-teller. It wasn't the torture that broke me. It wasn't the indoctrination. It was time. Time rots everything, Booker...even hope."

"I was coming. We—we were coming…"

Elizabeth looked at the two of them safely, her eyes lingering on Dante. "Songbird. He always stopped you.

Dante shook his head sadly. "Yes, but we'd find a way."

"No." Her voice was soft but firm, and she looked at him sadly before placing something in his hand. It was scrunched up, but it felt oddly familiar. Dante's hearts skipped a few beats as he thought of what it might be. "It's too late for me. I brought you two here for your sakes. Yours and hers. Here." She held out a card which Dante also took as he and Booker examined it.

"What is this?" Booker asked, confused as he looked at the charcoal sketches.

"It's for her...she'll know how to read it."

"What does it say?"

"It's advice," she said matter-of-factly.

"Advice on what?"

"How _not_ to become me."

And with that cryptic answer that wasn't really an answer, Old Elizabeth crossed her arms and in a flash of light, the destruction disappeared, as did the smoke and the burning smell of fire and the faint screaming.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

There was a blinding, flashing light, and then suddenly as soon it had started it stopped. The atmosphere around them had completely changed, they could sense it immediately. An old record could be heard playing somewhere. Right behind them, actually. Dante turned to face it and was hit with another blinding light, only this one felt warm and yellow.

"The sun...we're back..and that's a window...which means—" he turned to Booker suddenly, who apparently had had the same epiphany as him. "We must be inside Comstock House. Elizabeth!"

"We're back…" Booker's head was still reeling, trying to grasp what had just happened. "In 1912...there's still time. But how much?"

"Let's not wait to find out. Come on!"

They ran down the hall and opened the door there to see an isolation chamber. Just above the chamber were two rooms on each side that held a generator each and a lever with one man each near it. In the chamber itself were two doctors and Elizabeth hooked up to an examination table, with something sticking from her back as she thrashed around. And hanging just above the operation itself was a balcony where Comstock himself stood over watching. A voice rang out as they entered the room silently-it was easily and eerily recognizable as the voice of Dr. Powell. He was talking to two unseen people: "You two men upstairs...if she gets ornery, just hit her with the machines. She opens one tear, and there will be nothing but regrets." There was a sinister sneer in his voice, his amusement nearly palpable in the air. There was nothing funny about the situation.

Booker did not agree with the situation one bit. "Comstock! What are you doin' to her?! Let her be!"

" _Mr. DeWitt! Mr. Price! What's the expression? "Day late and a dollar short."_ " Comstock gloated.

"We gotta get in there."

"If we shut down those machines from upstairs." Dante examined, pointing the rooms out to Booker. "I'll take the one on the right, you take the one on the left."

Booker nodded in agreement as the two took off in opposite directions to shut down the generators.

"No, no! No! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF! Please? Please, it hurts!" The two could hear Elizabeth pleading, no doubt still thrashing in her chair.

"Can't we give her something to quiet her down?" another doctor asked, annoyed. This was recognized as the voice of the other doctor from the tears, Dr. Pettifog. Dante clenched his teeth in anger.

Dr. Powell probably shrugged based on the nonchalant tone his voice took. "Well, the Prophet says half the procedure is the pain…"

"Hmm. When the body cries out, the spirit listens."

" _Do you hear that screaming? That is the sound of your interference. You two have led my daughter into temptation!_ " Comstock gloated.

"She is NOT your daughter!" Dante yelled out as just as he took down a Founder blocking his path.

" _Perhaps not now...but trust me when I tell you, she will be_."

Dante had reached the first generator, knocking out the man who was guarding it, and pulled the lever.

"They've shut down one of the generators." Powell started to panic.

Pettifog, perhaps beginning to feel that perhaps he was in over his head, suggested, "If we don't sedate her and they shut down the other one…"

"We're not sedating her!" Powell yelled angrily. It sounded as though they'd had this argument countless times before.

Booker had reached the other siphon and, unlike his partner, killed the man guarding the lever as he pulled it and shut down the other siphon. The machine whirred and roared before suddenly dying down, with a whine much like that of a car engine as it faded completely. He could not see Dante from where he was, but he hoped that his partner was closer to Elizabeth than he was so that she could be reached in time.

Pettifog could be heard with clear panic in his voice as he called to his fellow doctor, "They've shut down the other siphon!"

"She's getting up... She's…"

Powell was cut off by that point, as a tear had formed near the back of the theater as it opened to show part of a faraway farm, where a tornado was approaching. Before they knew it, the tear opened further, the twister rapidly approaching as the physician scrambled to find something to grab on to.

"Turn it back on...please! Please!" Powell pleaded, but it was too late. The tornado hit the room, taking Powell into it and flinging Pettifog away, as it utterly decimated the room before the tear closed.

"Elizabeth, we'll be right there!" Dante called out through the ringing in his ears, hoping that his voice carried through the chamber.

Booker headed back downstairs, unchallenged, as he got to the now wrecked operation room as he saw Dante placing two fingers on her wrist, his face now plastered with concern. Booker, a after a moment, mirrored the look, looking from Dante to Elizabeth.

"What's wrong?"

"She has no pulse. Her heart's stopped." Dante frantically began decompressions as he applied CPR onto Elizabeth. "C'mon, don't do this to me." He pried her lips open as he began to apply mouth to mouth, blowing air into her lungs before starting decompressions again. "Please, please! Just let me have this, just this once!" It wasn't long until Elizabeth drew breath and started coughing, Dante having backed off to give her room. She continued to cough for sometime, at one point grabbing onto Dante's outstretched arm and digging her nails into the skin. "Ouch." was all he had to say as she looked up at him for a moment or two before embracing him. "Turn around, I'll help you get this thing out. Read this, too." He handed her the card before helping her turn around and beginning to work on the needle sticking out of her spine. "Just be ready on three. One…" He pulled the needle out, making her gasp. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Just help me with this." Elizabeth pointing at the loose strings that held her corset on. She read the note before turning towards Booker. "Your dream of New York...happens. And it's me...I'm the one who…"

Booker spoke up from where he was looking uneasily at all of the torture instruments around them. "She's given us a way to get past Songbird. We're gonna find an airship and we'll leave-"

"Booker."

Booker tried again. "Paris, Elizabeth...remember, you wanted to go to-"

"We're not leaving. We are going to find Comstock."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? She wants to kill him." Dante pointed out, handing Elizabeth her jacket.

"You saw what he turns me into, I will not allow that," Elizabeth added, her tone firm. There was no arguing here, but Booker still tried.

"And you're going to do it?" he questioned quietly.

"Is this where you start moralizing, Booker? You forget, I know you."

"Well I'm not going to let you kill him." Dante firmly stated, holding her hand.

She opened a the tear to the plains tornado scene once again.

"Really, Dante? What are you going to do to stop me?"

"He won't do a damn thing. Because I'm gonna do it for you." Elizabeth closed the tear, satisfies with his answer and Dante's hesitant nod of approval, but just as they started to make their way out of the theater, they heard a slight groan. Booker peered over their heads and his features immediately hardened.

"Pettifog," he muttered. "You two go on ahead, I'll catch up. Wanna have a chat with the "doctor" here."

Dante said nothing as he just led Elizabeth outside, closing the door to cover Pettifog's cries for mercy were muffled. The two made their way down the hallway, hand in hand. He queries tightly and she squeezed back.

"How long?" Dante asked, wanting to know how long it's been since Songbrid had re-acquired her. To him it'd been less than a day's time but for her...lord knows how long it's been. Elizabeth shook her head, her lips a thin line on her face.

"Long enough," was the grim response.

"I know but, how long? It may not look like it but I know what long enough is like." He gave her a look that said that he knew what he was talking about. "Try me."

"Dante, I'd really rather not think about it. I know you mean well, and I appreciate it, but I honestly don't know. It's a bit of a blur if we're being honest."

"Then let me try: six months."

"I—what? _Six months,_ are—are you sure?"

"When we were in the future we came across tears similar to the ones when figuring out Lady Comstock's demise. Now just the other day Pettifog came to your room told you today was the day of an operation. Even encouraged you to eat something but you didn't, did you?"

"I...no. No, I didn't. I was...maybe I was hoping that I'd starve to death first. I haven't eaten anything in days. I don't suppose you…?"

"Let me see." Dante began digging through is pockets before pulling out a small paper bag. Opening it, he took a quick look inside before holding it out. "Not exactly health food but it's something."

She took it gratefully, peering inside and frowned. "What are they? They're very...colorful."

"Jelly babies." He took one out and popped it into his mouth, smiling slightly.

"Uhm. What are Jelly Babies?"

"They're a gummi candi of sorts covered in starch. A real delicacy."

"So it's candy? Awesome, I've never had any before." Gingerly, she reached into the bag and took one out, popping it in her mouth and eyes widening at the taste. "Oh, wow. This is candy? It's amazing."

"Glad you like them." Dante took another one before handing the bag to her. "Got plenty more where those came from." He spotted a couch and sat down before motioning to Elizabeth to do the same. "I can't imagine what they did to you and I don't want to. But what I do know for certain is that we'll make Comstock pay for it. His life isn't ours to take and it won't be no matter how much you want to. Without you he's nothing but a crazy old man telling stories." He finished this by taking her hand, holding it in his own.

Elizabeth managed a very weak and brief smile, nodding once. "Thank you for coming back for me. You and Booker. I knew you would. Eventually…"

"Did you have any doubts?"

Instead of just replying she just pulled Dante closer and locked their lips into a kiss. This went on for a few moments until the two pulled back to breathe in some air.

"Does that answer your questions?" Her tone was joking and a small smile finally replaced the bitter line that had been there ever since her capture.

"I mean...it does answer quite a few, yes."

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them, and both pulled away and turned to the source of the noise. Booker stood there, looking awkward as he rubbed his hands on a torn cloth and tried to keep eye contact with the both of them.

"Have you finished with the good physician?" Dante asked, he couldn't even call the man a doctor.

"Yeah. Won't go into details for her sake." Booker hinting at Elizabeth. "For now, let's go find the Prophet."

The three made their way towards a locked gate that barred them from the elevator. Elizabeth immediately took to work on unlocking it.

"Comstock's zeppelin is outside. The _Hand of the Prophet_ , he calls it."

"Bit bombastic don't you think?" Dante queried, mainly because most egomaniacs he's dealt with always have something stupidly named.

Booker tilted his head, looking at Elizabeth with concern and perhaps a morbid sense of curiosity. "When did you learn that?"

"I've been here for awhile," came the deadpan reply.

"How long?"

"Long enough. I hope Comstock got what he wanted from me...'cause he is not gonna have long to use it."

They pile into the elevator just before Dante remembered something. Taking off the bandolier, he handed it to Elizabeth, who placed it back on. Dante helped her readjust the now too big straps onto her smaller frame, and once it was snug she nodded her approval.

"Thank you."

"You're most welcome. Though with how far we are now, that means," He dug under shirt collar and yanked off the gift that was given to him by the twins-the perception filter. "I won't be needing this anymore." He pocketed it in his jacket.

"This doesn't make any sense." Elizabeth commented, checking the sheet of paper she was given. "Everything here is a cipher that I understand, except this symbol... It's a...cage. Did she say anything about this?

Booker shook his head. "No."

The elevator reached its destination, the top floor of the building that had a balcony that led out onto the rooftops. The door to it was locked and just as Elizabeth was working on unlocking it, an airship loomed overhead.

"It's the Hand of the Prophet - Comstock's flagship. We've got to find a way onboard."

"You two stay here. I'll handle this." Booker said, stepping forward to be the first to head outside.

"No. We're doing this together, or I'm doing it alone. Either way, I need to know the thing's been done." Elizabeth stated firmly, just finishing the lock on the door. It clicked with a satisfying _ping_ and fell to the ground with a loud rattle.

It was then Comstock's voice was heard on the PA system. " _Oh, DeWitt...you struggle against prophecy, like a stone loosed from a sling. How thrilling the launch! How breathtaking the apex! And how terrifying the descent, as gravity drags you down into the inevitable._ "

They stepped outside before hearing a peculiar whistling. Dante immediately tensed knowing what was coming next.

"What's that sound?" Booker inquired.

Dante was all too familiar with the whistle. "Take cover!" Grabbing the other two by a shoulder each, the pulled the down as the "missiles" fired but did not explode

"They must be duds." Elizabeth eyed them warily. She stepped back a couple of paces, behind Booker but in front of Dante.

Dante shook his head, stepping back even further and taking her with him. "Those aren't duds, they're-"

The "duds" then proceeds to spit out two Patriots. As the fight broke out, Comstock once again made his presence known.

" _Look around you, Elizabeth. I built all of this for you! You are my heir and my blood! And what has DeWitt or Price ever done for you? To them you are now what you always were: a means to an end._ "

Elizabeth ignored him and proceeded to open tears for both an automatic turret and a mosquito drone, which helped fend off the machninaizations. A squadron of Founders had started coming forward as they opened fire on the two protectors. Dante had used Return to Sender to draw the oncoming fire in one ball which he flung back, killing two of the Founders. Meanwhile, Booker used a combo of Possession, Devil's Kiss and Murder of Crows to confuse, torch and turn the Founders into a disorganized mess. By this time, the drone and turret were destroyed with only one badly damaged Patriot standing in their way. They dealt with the Patriot and made their way forward to an airship shuttle, getting rid of more opposing Founders.

"That shuttle can take us to the Hand of the Prophet." Elizabeth pointed out before tossing a bottle of Salts to Booker and ammunition for Dante. They slayed the opposing Founders before reaching the vehicle, where each of them promptly hopped on.

The automaton manning the vehicle greeted them once they were on board. " _This ship is set to return to the Hand of the Prophet. I am awaiting your order to proceed._ " Once Booker flipped the lever, the automaton responded with, " _Right you are! We depart to the Hand of the Prophet!_ "

The three of them settled down to wait for the ten or so minutes it would take to reach the airship. Elizabeth settled in beside Booker, who fiddled with his skyhook and weapons while Dante checked his. After she tried to catch his attention a few times, she gave up and came over to Dante, who gave her a much warmer welcome. After a few minutes of near silence, she asked a question that somewhat stumped him.

"Do...do you think...it's possible to redeem the kind of things that we've done?"

"Redeem? I don't see much use in that." Booker answered grimly from where he was standing, fiddling with the safety on his machine gun. The man was ready to finish this job and be done with the city, and that was clear. But there was a lot more at stake than even he realized, and it would not be that simple as all of them hoped.

Elizabeth looked at him, her face a mixture of serious and curious. "Booker...are you afraid of God?"

Booker didn't even spare her a glance. "No...but I'm afraid of you."

She turned to Dante, her face still that perfect mixture of curiousness and seriousness. "What about you? Are you afraid of me?"

Dante gave her a look of curiosity, mixed with slight amusement. "Do you have sharp teeth?"

"No?"

"Can you sprout wings?"

"No."

"Have you done anything malicious or sadistic that would warrant any kind of fear from me?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then no, I'm not afraid of you. I've seen a lot of scary things. Things that would make normal men like Booker here turn tail and run for the hills. I've met and faced down people and monsters that make Comstock look like a puppy dog in comparison. You though? You're the most nicest sort of person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." He held her hand in his, holding it tight. "And, after this whole mess is sorted out, I'm hoping you and I could get better acquainted, preferably when we're not fighting for our lives." he gave her a small smile.

"I'd like that," she said softly. She smiled back, small but warm despite the situation.

Booker seemed not to have noticed his companion's little chat, or else thought it not his business, because he didn't give any reaction to their shared moment of tenderness or even seem uncomfortable as he usually did. Instead he continued checking his weapons and checking the course for their destination. He only spoke up when they caught sight of a large something in the distance.

"Comstock's ship." Dante nodded, face from as he stepped away from Elizabeth. "Alright, it's go time. Are we all ready?"

"I'm ready," Booker grumbled, cocking his gun and pointing it at the ground. He looked at Elizabeth, who nodded as well, though she looked apprehensive.

"I'm as ready as I can be," she stated simply. She twisted her pinky finger nervously.

All three looked up as they heard a noise from close by. It sounded like a train whistle Dante's eyes widened as he realized what this meant. He raised his gun. "Good, because it's now or never. Looks like we've got company."

Booker swore as he found the source of the noise cleverly concealing themselves in the thick clouds that surrounded them. He fired off a couple of shots before it came into view, the deceiving calming blue of the Founder's signature marking the aggressors for easy targets. Booker and Dante together fires off a few shots each as the ship came closer while Elizabeth scrambled to find what no doubt limited supplies were on the small ship.

She managed to find a health kit, which she held onto, and a small Salt vial, which she kept a close eye on. After a couple of minutes of shooting back and forth and a couple of Vigors thrown towards the offending airship, the Founders were defeated and their airship sped from sight, disappearing into the clouds once more.

Their few precious moments of peace after the fact were soon interrupted however by the sound of more airships heading their way, though they were Vox this time, as they dispatched those as quickly as they had the first. Eventually, they reached Comstock's ship, and as they prepared to dock Booker tried one last time to persuade Elizabeth.

"Y'know we can just fly this thing to Paris…"

Elizabeth glared at him—though she knew where their loyalties lay, she was still irritated that Booker was still doing this. "Just drop me off if you want to. This isn't either of your problems."

"We won't abandon you," Dante swore, looking pointedly at Booker.

Elizabeth's stone cold expression turned soft in the blink of an eye as she looked tenderly at both of them. "You wouldn't...would you?" She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm staying. I'm going to stop Comstock, and then I'm getting the hell out of here. _We're_ getting the hell out of here. So let's get to it. Look, there are sky-lines all over the surface of the flagship. They're covered with those motorized patriot pods."

Booker nodded. "That must be where they're deployed from. I wouldn't go near those pods while those pods are in place."

Elizabeth: Comstock is at the top of the ship. Let's head up.

They all exited the craft as soon as it docked properly, but as soon as they had done so the PA rung out with Comstock's booming, authoritative voice. His taunting, usually directed at Booker, was this time meant for Elizabeth.

" _Look at DeWitt, child. There's something about him that you just can't put your finger on. Soon you'll understand the man I am, and the man he isn't._ "

She ignored him, as usual.

The trio fought their way through a squad of Comstock's troops, mounting turrets and setting Vigor traps before they finally cleared the hangar bay of all enemies. They rushed to the main control panel for that level, situated right in front of the skyline.

"Those sky-lines lead up to the next deck! If we clear the lines of those pods, we can use them to get up to the next decks," Elizabeth informed them.

Looking around, they spotted a control panel and pressed a button that started launching the pods. But once again, Comstock couldn't help but talk and try goading Elizabeth. If he really thought that was going to work after all he had knowingly and willingly done to her, he was out of his mind. But then again, had they ever really seen any evidence to the contrary?

" _I have seen the seeds of fire that will prepare the Sodom Below for the coming of the Lord. But it will not be I who carries that banner up the hill. That job...falls to you, Elizabeth. That job falls to you._ "

"The sky-lines are clear!" Elizabeth ignored him and called out to the others, much louder than strictly necessary, but no one blamed her.

The trio then used the skyline to ride up a deck, Elizabeth grabbing her's a skyhook off a fallen Founder. The PA came back on, filling the air with the din of Comstock rallying his troops with his honeyed words, promising false hope and redemption.

" _On one side of our Lamb stands the False Shepherd...and the other the remnants of the heretical Vox Populi. Which one of you men will not gladly go to his reward to see her safely to her destiny? Rejoice! Rejoice! Death has no sting!_ "

Elizabeth gazed venomously at the nearest loudspeaker, not taking her eyes off of it even as she said, "There's the launch panel."

Fighting their way through a handful of troops, they hit the button only for the pod to take longer to drop than normal. Clearly there was a delay somewhere else, but they had no idea where or what to do to fix it.

Elizabeth frowned, unimpressed by this new development. "Why are they dropping so slowly?"

"I don't know. We're gonna have to wait it out."

It wasn't long until an airship came into view, loaded with Founder troops brandishing their weapons and screaming typical Founder-like things. Booker groaned and Elizabeth winced.

"I don't think they're giving us that option." Dante answered, reloading his weapon and aiming it at the nearest bad guy.

Comstock's forces, surprisingly accompanied by the Vox, came en masse as the duo fought tooth and nail to keep them at bay. It was a bit into the battle Dante yelled out, "How many so far?!"

"One quarter of the pods have been ejected!" Elizabeth responded, ducking into another hiding spot.

"That's ALL?!" Booker exclaimed before using Undertow to shove a guy off the ship. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, adding a few expletives to the end of his sentence.

They kept fighting, Dante having to pause and reload at least once while Booker watched his back. At one point he lobbed a Devil's Kiss at somebody, and they flailed back screaming in agony. They bumped into another group that were clustered together and accidentally caught them on fire as well. 'Five birds, one stone,' Dante thought as he watched, impressed.

"One half done!" He could hear Elizabeth calling out over the din of battle, and he nodded to show he, at least, had heard.

It wasn't until a Patriot and another handful of Founders and Vox were put down that finally Elizabeth called, "The lines are clear."

Restocked and reloaded, they took the skyway to the next deck, Comstock's voice taunting them along the way.

" _I may be the one who strikes you both down, but DeWitt, you've always had a knack for self-destruction. Who's to say_ _ **you**_ _won't beat me to the punch?_ "

They reached the engineering deck, and as they entered they could hear the murmurs and sounds of Founders trying to get into position for an ambush.

"One more deck to go." He sighed, wanting to try to convince not just her, but his partner, to turn back. "Look, let me take care of this on my own."

"No, we're going with you."

They entered the room, taking down Founders as they went— Possessions were thrown at turrets and at one point Elizabeth opened a turret within a tear. Managing to tear through most of the forces, the Handyman that arrived shortly after the fighting started was nothing at this point as they double teamed it with a combo of Shock Jockey, shots to the heart and a flak cannon that one of them picked up. As soon as it fell they made their way towards another skyline that lead towards the Prophet's Cabin. Riding the final sky-line towards the top, Comstock made himself known one last time.

" _You come to wipe your slate clean, False Shepherd - but time will walk backwards before you find redemption. Some sins can't be forgiven._ "

Reaching the cabin, Booker only briefly hesitated before he opened the door, two making their way in before he followed suite. As soon as they did, they noticed near the entry was a model of Monument Tower. Elizabeth walked up to it, gently touching the base as if in a trance.

"This is my tower...what's this...the siphon?"

"We saw this there. We could hear you singing from above…" Dante mused. "The machine came to life in response."

"And then in my mother's grave, there was a smaller one...they were draining me...maybe that's why I can't…"

"Can't what?" Booker pressed on, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"When I was little, I used to be able not to just open tears, but I could create new ones...anywhere I wanted to go. But in the tower…"

A com speaker turned on, and as expected, it was Comstock—but the bravado and cockiness in his time was gone. Now he sounded almost defeated, deceptively calm. He only said, " _Yes, I'll be right with you._ " If one didn't know him, he would have almost sounded polite.

"Stand back. I'm ending this."

"No. This is between me and him."

"You are walking into a trap-"

"I need to do this."

"Five minutes."

The two of turned towards Dante, confused.

"What?"

"Give me five minutes to talk to him."

Booker seemed extremely skeptical, but Elizabeth nodded. The door opened as they walked into Comstock's cabin. Inside was what was basically a garden, with beautiful flowers and bushes decorating the interior, but at the center next to a bird bath was the man himself—Comstock, in the flesh.

He beckoned to Elizabeth to come towards him, though Dante stayed a step ahead of her. "Elizabeth. My, oh, my have you grown. Come here. Well come on, I don't bite!"

While they were a few steps away but out of arm's reach until Dante stopped himself and her. Giving her a nod as well as Booker (who stayed near the door), he walked towards Comstock.

"Mr. Comstock, we finally meet. Or, should I call you Zachary, or Zachariah? 'Cause you're no father of mine. Or would you just prefer Comstock?"

"Mr. Price, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance at last. I've heard my daughter has taken quite a liking to you." At the mention of the word 'daughter', Elizabeth froze. He kept talking, either oblivious or willfully ignorant of this little fact. "Come here, child."

"No," Dante said in her place. "Not yet. Comstock, I must say-you cut quite an impressive figure. Certainly not a holy one, though. This is...quite the con you've got going on here. I mean, framing an innocent woman for the murder of your wife. That in turn causing a civil war essentially against a woman of color." He motioned at his bare skin accusingly. "Granted, she was no saint herself, but then again neither are you. I mean, aside from African Americans, you've got the Irish, Chinese, Native Americans, and a couple other races. All they do is work, work, work, for a chance to belong in this so called Eden, but you just step on them," he emphasised his point by stomping on the ground. He stopped suddenly, as a thought occurred to him. He glared up at Comstock thoughtfully. "I suppose that's the only real way those people and the whites are equal in your city-the only thing they have in common is you step on all of them."

Comstock did not verbally react to his words, but his stance stiffened-his eyes lost their false cheer and the smile on his face turned into little more than a sneer. His shoulders squared and even from Dante's place he could see the set line of his jaw. Dante was getting to him, and he did not like it one bit. If his reputation really did proceed him, Comstock was balking at the thought of even acknowledging someone like him. 'Good.'

"Oh, but I'm not done yet. Claiming to see visions in mid air when they're simply tears of reality is just...well, the simple solution would be calling it fraud, but it'd fall under Clarke's three laws. When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. In short...yeah, you're a fraud, and everyone here knows it."

"Mr. Price." Comstock's voice is firm and commanding, and if Dante hadn't heard it from him and a million different other men just like him, he might have been tempted to cower under it. But he stood and he looked his enemy in the eye, refusing. "Mr. Price, I think you are confused about just how things work around here. Columbia has some of the greatest minds from the Sodom below, all working to bring about a new age unlike anything seen before!" A hearty, but very fake guffaw, came from Comstock's mouth, and even he did not seem like he believed it. "As you said yourself, yes, if any technology is advanced enough, it could be considered magic by primitive minds. The only magic involved here, lad, is the miracle of God and His divine vision. If there were any trickery involved with my methods, don't you think someone would have found out by now?"

"Let's see...Lady Comstock, the Luteces, who made a majority of how your city works, I can go on. Mass murder, conspiracy, and uxoricide. I suppose it could be called a sin to claim divine knowledge, but that's depending on whether you believe or not. Either way, the only False Shepard around here is you, Zachary."

He looked at Dante with a ferocity and hatred previously unseen on the older man's features, his lip curled and his eyes narrowed as he made to take a couple steps forward. "Dear boy, what do you know of being divine? All I see before me are a couple of Israelites, being led astray by an Aaron. You have abandoned your Prophet and falsified a golden idol in his place. Soon you will see that no amount of gold or empty promises can guarantee you a place in Eden."

"You're one to talk about empty promises, aren't you? As it happens, I do know and few things. Though I do find it...boring. I've known actual "divine" beings that make you and your "utopia" look like a child's first scribblings. You're no prophet, you're no saint, and you sure as _hell_ aren't anyone's 'Father'. That being said...while we're on the subject of biblical parallels, you probably think you're some kind of Moses, don't you? Columbia is your Red Sea, the path by which all of God's chosen will leave their oppressors behind and be carried to the Promised Land, where there is milk and honey in abundance and every sin is forgiven. But you are no Moses, and like him, you will never make it to your Promised Land. Not because of age, Elizabeth, or even Dewitt or myself, but instead of doing something decent and kind, you turning your utopia into a dystopia. Or to put it in layman's terms—" Now he got close enough that the other two couldn't hear, and he leaned in close,taking in the barely concealed uncomfortable expression in the other man's face. "Your sin could never be forgiven. Not by man, not even by God. There's a reason Hell exists." Dante dug through his pocket and flipped open a fob watch. "Five minutes are up." He moved to the far side of the room, leaning on the wall and motioning to the other two to come in.

Elizabeth walked up to Comstock, unwavering in her cold gaze and her steady step. She stood opposite him on the other side of the birdbath, and when she spoke her tone was steely and demanding. "Tell me...What am I?"

Comstock ignored her question, opting to grab her hand and begin to scrub it with a sponge. There was no blood or grime on her hand. "Look at you, child, you're a mess."

Booker started toward the bath, "Hey. Let go of her-"

Comstock ignored him as well. "Elizabeth, everything I've done...I've done to keep you safe."

Elizabeth scoffed, trying to pull her hand away but failing. "Safe from what?"

"' _The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flame the mountains of man._ ' But the archangel revealed something else. "Beware, Prophet. Beware the False Shepherd, Booker DeWitt...for he shall be as a wall between her and destiny."

"Why?"

Now Comstock turned to Booker—not Dante as well, just Booker. He shook his head sadly. "DeWitt, I'm a fool. I've sent mighty armies to stop you; I've rained fire on you from above. I did all of that to keep you from her, when all I needed to do was tell her the truth. Ask him, child. Ask him what happened to your finger. Ask DeWitt," he pushed insistently, his tone mocking and impatient.

Elizabeth now tried to yank her hand away, only for it to be pulled back by Comstock. "Hey! Let go of me!" she grunted, panic seeping into her voice.

He raised her hand, before turning it and himself towards Booker. "Ask him! Ask the False Shepherd! Tell her! Tell her, False Shepherd. Tell her the truth!"

Booker was immediately called into action, and he was more than happy to answer it. He practically ran from his place just a few steps away from the door and viciously separated the two, pushing Comstock away and Elizabeth behind him. She grabbed onto Dante as Comstock glared at Booker with unconcealed fury. It did not last long-Booker grabbed Comstock by the neck and slammed his head into the birdbath.

"She's your _daughter,_ you son of a bitch! And you _abandoned_ her! Was it worth it? Huh? Did you get what you wanted? Tell me! Tell me!" As Booker shouted and raged, he kept bringing Comstock's head up and slamming it down again, before Elizabeth's screams of terror registered in his ears.

" _Booker!_ "

Booker froze. Comstock chose that as the opportune moment to utter his last: "It...is...finished."

At the sound of the other man's voice, his attention was turned back to him once more, and his words only served to stir the fire in Booker even hotter. He turned Comstock around and pushed him face-down into the water. " _Nothing_ is finished! You lock her up _her whole life!_ You cut off her _finger,_ and you pin it on _me?!_ "

Elizabeth would have intervened had she not been held back by Dante, who was watching with curious horror as the wound on the back of Comstock's head gushed its violent color into the birdbath, turning the water scarlet. Elizabeth's protests had been almost unheard until this point, at which she broke free from Dante and screamed in Booker's ear.

" _BOOKER, STOP IT!_ "

Booker abruptly stopped his rampage, letting go of Comstock almost immediately, but it was too late: the Prophet was dead. Booker unwittingly breathed a sigh of relief, and Dante felt something inside of him evaporate-a weight off of his shoulders. Elizabeth should have felt satisfied, victorious perhaps, but she only felt hollow.

"You killed him," she almost whispered. It wasn't said accusingly, but nor was it said happily. It was simply...factual. She stared at Booker. "What did he mean? Huh? You tell me." She adjusted the thimble on her finger unconsciously, "what did he mean about my finger?"

Booker shook his head, willing away the odd feeling that was beginning to creep over his mind. "I don't know...I...I just assumed you were born with it. I don't know." He backed away, bringing a hand to his head at the sudden migraine he was beginning to get.

"Your nose...it's bleeding."

Booker brought his fingers up by his nose and pulled them back to see she was right. "What? Elizabeth, I swear to you, I have no idea what he was talking about."

"You do. You just can't remember it."

"Like Chen Lin." Dante added in observation, moving to stand beside Elizabeth again.

"No...I'll prove it to you. I'll prove it to both of you. We'll destroy the siphon. The answer's behind one of your doors, Elizabeth, you just have to open it."

"Destroy the siphon? It's the entire tower, Booker. How are we gonna do that?" Elizabeth questioned in disbelief.

"I don't know...but I'll think of something on the way."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

They left the main atrium and entered the zeppelin's bridge, Booker taking the helm, Dante examining the Comstock alarm statue, all the while, Elizabeth kept musing about the note that her older self made. She turned the note around in her hand countless times, viewing it from several different angles, and grunting in frustration when she could make neither heads nor tails of it.

"Cage...cage...what does that…" she mumbled to herself, brows furrowing in concentration as she shook the paper. "What is she trying to tell us?...cage...cage. I'm missing something... Come on…"

Her and the rests thought process came to a halt as a Vox ships flew in front of them. Over the PA, a Vox member began to speak, all the while the ships began firing at the blimp. " _They said they knew what was BEST for us…they said they KNEW what was comin' next…_ " A rocket landed a hit nearby, causing the bridge to shake. " _Did you see THIS comin', OLD MAN? Did you see this coming, PROPHET?!_ "

"We gotta get ready. I think they mean to board us!"

Elizabeth suddenly dropped the card, her eyes going wide as she had an epiphany. "The bird!" she gasped, looking out the vast window. "The _bird,_ of course! That's it!" She paced back and forth now, muttering indecipherable words as the Vox's PA system came online.

" _You ain't gonna place your daughter on the throne, we're gonna place her in her grave!_ "

She ignored their words, still caught up in the euphoria of realization, as she rushed over to the statue. Dante knew what to do as he followed suite and went behind it, shoving it hard. "Help me with this," she told Booker as she pulled the statue forward.

Booker did not, instead watching with confused curiosity as the two successfully toppled the statue and Elizabeth grabbed the fallen soldier's baton. "Whoa, what are you doing?" he asked as the machine started to whistle the tune that hailed Songbird.

"We have to sing to him!" Elizabeth explained, beginning to beat the statue with the stolen baton.

"Sing to who? Guys, stop it!"

"C-A-G-E! It's not a word, Booker…"

"...it's a song!" Dante finished, ripping the head piece off before digging into part of the neck before handing Elizabeth what seemed to be a pan flute.

The destruction of the statue seemed to have summoned Songbird to the area, as they heard his cry. She blew into the flute making Songbird docile and friendly as the creature landed on the deck and smashed through the window. Thankfully the song worked, as just as it was about to grab Elizabeth, it stopped dead in its tracks. It cocked its head curiously at Elizabeth, who smiled gently as she raised a hand towards it.

"Shhh...shhh, it's okay, I'm here. Will you help me? I need you to protect me, will you do it? Will you do this for me, just...just this one last thing? Please…"

It squawked its affirmative.

"Good. Go. Go, go, go!" She pleaded as it flew off into the sky. "Guys, he'll help us! We can use him against the Vox fleet! Just tell him where to go!"

"We need this thing to make it to Monument Island!"

" _You thought the streets were paved with gold, but they were paved with blood, sweat and tears...OUR blood, sweat and tears! But today, our tears become gold! And your tears-_ " The Vox speaking was cut off as a bundle of rockets hit the airship as it fell out of the sky. This gained the attention of the trio as the saw that the origin of the explosives came from another airship that was decked out with red, white and blue. They headed onto the deck as they saw a familiar face jump off the airship and onto the deck.

"Captain Cornelius Slate reporting for duty!"

"Slate? What the hell are you doing here?!" Booker asked, not really conceiving that his old commanding officer was in front of him. Slate grinned at him, clapping Booker on the back in a friendly manner.

"Well, as soon as word got around that Fitzroy was pushing up her own namesake, most of the Vox thought I was apart of her demise. So whoever was still loyal to me or didn't believe the lies jointed off and have been trying to fight our way through. Then I thought, 'Might as well get out of whatever hell DeWitt's in.'" The one eyed soldier explained before turning towards Dante, grabbing his hand to shake it. "Thank you for the second chance, kid. I hope I can repay it forward." To Booker, he said, "What can we do to help?"

"We need this thing to make it to Monument Island," he explained, repeating his words from earlier. "You see that generator over there? We need to make sure the damn thing doesn't shatter or blow us all to kingdom come. If it does, this entire ship goes down. Think you can help?"

"Can do soldier!" Slate turned and jumped back onto the airship, beginning to speak on the PA. " _Listen up boys, we need to make sure this rig gets to Monument Island. Show these boys that we mean business and what a real soldier looks like!"_

With that, a collective cheer was heard as Slate's airships was gathered around the Hand as they prepared to defend the ship. More Vox airships came along as the two forces began to clash, with ships going down, being boarded or exploding. A select good handful of Slate's men landed on the deck as well as the Vox as they fought, and the two sides became so embattled that it became near total chaos. Elizabeth had to keep track of both Dante and Booker as she desperately tried to keep both of them restocked. At a point, a Vox grabbed her by the bandolier as she slipped out of it while the Vox was shot dead. The two protectors in the meantime were taking advantage of the back up as well as Songbird. Said killer bird was taking down Vox ships, avoiding Slate's ships, as it also helped cleared the deck of any oncoming reinforcements.

It took several minutes before most of the Vox were dealt with. Songbird helped out a fair amount as well, taking down the largest zeppelins and a few barges to boot. By the time most of them were gone, Monument Island loomed ahead of them, barely concealed by the foggy night sky. Not long after, a damaged airship swung in front of the trio.

" _Dewitt, kid, ma'am._ " Slate's voice rang from the PA. " _It's been a pleasure_."

Booker gave a soldier's salute, smiling for the first time since they had known him as the figure of Slate standing at the bow returned the gesture. Dante nodded sagely in the old soldier's direction, and Elizabeth gave a wave. The airship turned as it headed towards an oncoming Vox airship, both going at ramming speed before colliding and exploding in a ball of fire. With Songbird's help, they repelled the Vox before they had a chance to destroy the ship.

"Well, that didn't work out so bad…" Booker sighed, dropping his empty weapons and dispelling his Vigor. He turned to Dante, who was doing the same, and then to Elizabeth, who nodded to make it known she was alright. She then walked to the bow of the ship, pointing at a looming figure, coming ever closer.

"Booker, Dante, come here," she called.

The two head to the bow where they see that Columbia is burning and in front of them was the half destroyed tower.

"Look. We can use Songbird to bring the whole damn thing down. Destroy the siphon."

"Is this what you really want?" Dante asked, wanting to be sure.

"It's the only way we'll find the truth. About my finger," she adjusted the thimble slightly,"...Comstock. Everything." Elizabeth then handed the whistler to Booker who took it.

"Tear it down. Tear it ALL down." Booker muttered before he plays the sequence, summoning Songbird to the task. The creature dives through the island, utterly destroying it causing a blinding light and a wave of energy spreaded. Said light blinded the duo, while Elizabeth remained unaffected and was...glowing, as the energy also fried the whistler causing Booker to drop it.

"The whistler!" Booker exclaimed before seeing Songbird come up from the wreckage. "Elizabeth! The bird, Elizabeth! I lost control! He's coming!"

Elizabeth turned towards them, a calm expression on her face, as she made a waving motion with her arm. "No, he isn't." Songbird was just coming from behind her as another blinding light from the tear she had created. Everything was white for a moment-the ground seemed to shift beneath them, the hard planks of the ship giving way to soft carpet and broken tile as the air around them turned stale and sour. The first thing they noticed was the smell-the acidic odor of death and the grimy scent of wet mold. Dante wrinkled his nose in disgust and even Booker shook his head. Elizabeth seemed unfazed, however, as the white finally gave way to a large window overlooking a rather peculiar view. It took the other two just a bit longer to catch up to what it was they were seeing.

First, there was Songbird-he was outside, being crushed to death by the ocean's pressure; because yes, apparently, somehow, they were _underwater_. A gleaming city with a haunted edge lay beyond wherever they were, its neon lights and no doubt abandoned venues stretching beyond their eyesight and even the range of the vast window before them. Elizabeth walked up to said window, placing a hand on it over the area Songbird was from the other side. Only his eyes started to shatter and leak black fluid. "Shhh...shhh...it's okay, it's all right. I'm here. Just let go. There you go...there you go."

The giant bird finally gave in as he began to sink to the ocean floor. She stepped away from the window before getting a hug from behind courtesy of Dante.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, feeling slight sympathy for the creature. She turned around and returned the embrace.

Booker finally took a moment to absorb his surroundings that the silence was broken. "What is this place?"

Elizabeth separated from the hug, before explaining, "It's a doorway. One of many. This way."

"What do you mean, it's a doorway?" She started walking towards a door that slid up before Booker asked, "Where are you going?"

"Come on. Yes, it's this way."

The trio proceeded down a set of stairs, passing by and walking over some rubble, before walking down another flight of stairs.

"What Comstock said about your finger...is there an answer here? Do you-" Booker tried asking again before being cut off.

"Down here. Over here, Booker! This is where we have to go."

It was like she was ignoring him, which he took as an ominous sign. He looked at Dante who gave him a shrug. It wasn't long until they were leads towards a bathysphere elevator.

"Why? What is going on? Elizabeth, what do you mean, this is a doorway?"

"I'll have to show you."

They trio walked into the bathysphere before the two of the three took a seat while the older man shook his head, muttering, "Probably gonna regret this," before pulling the lever as the bathysphere descended into the deep until it floated out and over Rapture's skyscrapers.

"City at the bottom of the ocean? Ridiculous." Booker commented, scoffing.

"Says the guy who just witnessed a city in the sky." Dante responded with a hint of snark.

"Uh...fair point." The pod surfaced under a starlit sky and a bit of distance away from a staircase leading to a lighthouse. Elizabeth and Dante looked up at them, the both of them being utterly fascinated.

"Look at that. Thousands of doors...opening all at once. My god, they're beautiful." Elizabeth dared not raise her voice above an awestruck whisper as she gazed up and around her, reaching out as if to touch them.

"They are, aren't they?" Dante agreed, smiling warmly.

Booker looked up as he was just confused. "What, the stars?"

"Well, those too." The bathysphere floated forward before landing at the staircase and the door opened.

"Come on...come on, it's this way...come on!" Elizabeth encouraged, grabbing both men by the hand as she led him up the stairs and to a door. She tried opening it but to no avail, letting out a sigh of frustration.

"Are you going to open it?" Booker asked, curious as to what this place was.

"It's no good. Damn it, I thought once we were here, I could fully control it...I thought…" She was cut off when something appeared in her hand.

"What is that?"

"A key, apparently." Dante commented on, also noting that it was similar to the one used back at the tower.

"Where did it come from?"

"It's always been there, I just...I just couldn't see it." She unlocks the door and the trio step through to find...more lighthouses. Lovely. "See? Not stars. Doors."

"Doors to...?"

"To everywhere. All that's left is the choosing."

Dante chuckled. "Well, not _everywhere_ mind you."

"How do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You'll see. Meanwhile, Booker, you were asking about the lighthouses?" Dante said, wanting to change the subject.

"Right...so what are all these lighthouses?"

"There are a million million worlds. All different and all similar. Constants and variables."

"What?" Booker was still confused, and really, who could blame him? Even Dante had had a hard time figuring out what was going on.

"There's always a lighthouse. There's always a man, there's always a city…"

"How do you know this?"

"I can see them through the doors. You...me, Columbia, Songbird...But sometimes, something's different...yet the same."

"Constants and variables." Booker finally realized what she was getting at.

"Exactly." Dante then felt something warm in his jacket pocket as he dug through it and pulled out a leather wallet. Opening it, he read what was inside before stuffing it back in his pocket while having a slight smile on his face.

Elizabeth lead the two into another lighthouse, but this time, it was no longer dark but dusk. They looked to their left, and then to their right, as two other sets of Elizabeths and Bookers walked along a lighthouse path. Elizabeth stopped short in her tracks as she noticed something...peculiar.

"It's us."

Elizabeth frowned, still fixated on the irregularity. "Yes, but...not exactly. We swim in different oceans but land on the same shore. It always starts with a lighthouse. But…"

"But?" Dante asked inquestedly, knowing the upcoming question.

She looked to him, head tilted. "Where are you?"

Dante just smiled innocently. "Give it a few minutes."

Elizabeth frowned at that. "You are really starting to annoy me with this 'Mr. Mysterio' routine."

"I swear to you, on my honor, that you'll be getting the answers you want. Though even if you tried by using the doors, you'd get nothing. In fact, try it right now." Dante suggested, motioning to the surrounding lighthouses.

Booker made to move, but Elizabeth stopped him. "No, Booker, he's right. I can't see anything. All in due time, I suppose. I trust you, Dante. I hope I'm not wrong."

He once again just smiled. "It'll be worth it, I swear."

Booker in the meantime was holding his head, trying to prevent a headache from coming on. "I don't understand."

"About?"

"The whole starting with a lighthouse. Me, her, Songbird, you not being there…."

"It happens all the same, for the most part."

"Why?"

"Because it does. Because it has. Because it will." Elizabeth tried to explain as they neared another lighthouse, but all of it just confused him further.

"There are so many choices," he murmured, looking around helplessly. He shook his head in wonder, his brain beginning to hurt from all the quantum physics.

"They all lead us to the same place...where it started."

" _No one_ tells me where to go."

Elizabeth shook her head, not quite understanding why Booker wasn't getting it. She sighed, passing Booker as she reached the door and prepared to open it. "Booker...you've already _been._ "

They entered the next lighthouse which opened into what seemed to be a baptismal ceremony. Eight people and a preacher were wading in knee deep in the water, their expressions an exact copy of each other-all were closed off in silent prayer and their faces were turned up to the heavens, their clasped hands raised. The sight made Booker uncomfortable, and a memory suddenly rose unbidden to the surface in his mind. He brushed it off before it could come to form, wrinkling his nose, before he realized that the memory was before him.

"Wait a minute...I know this place."

Elizabeth looked at him curiously, urging him to continue, and he shook his head at the sudden wash of feelings that came over him.

"I was here, it must have been...twenty years ago. Right after Wounded Knee. I was looking for-"

"Come on now, time's a-wasting!" The preacher called out to Booker, interrupting his train of thought. The man instantly recognized him as the preacher that nearly drowned him when he first entered Colombia. He stumbled back, surprised and frightened as he glanced at his companions. Elizabeth at least seemed to have some sympathy for him.

"Why were you here?" Elizabeth asked, she and Dante stepping to the side all the while Booker approached the preacher, still incredibly cautious.

"Are you ready to have your past erased? Are you ready to have your sins cleansed? Are you ready to be born again? Take my hand…" The preacher was holding out his hand towards Booker, ready for him to grasp it, but he shook his head, backing away again.

"No...no, I don't want to."

"But you already did, didn't you?" Elizabeth reminded him, as Booker, under protest but willingly, took Witting's hand. He was actually shaking, his breath coming out in tiny bursts as he nearly hyperventilated. If there was one thing Booker DeWitt detested, it was being confronted by his past.

"Are you ready to be born again?" the preacher questioned, his booming voice washing over the gathered congregation, and they either nodded at him or simply stared straight ahead, placid smiles on their pale faces.

Booker nodded. "I am," he lied. But it wasn't really a lie, was it?

"Do you hate your sins?"

"I do." This time, there was absolute determination and regret in his voice.

"Do you hate your wickedness?"

"Yes," his knees nearly buckled and his voice almost gave out. He nodded vigorously at the preacher before remembering himself. It would have been pathetic were it not so terrible.

"Do you want to clean the slate, leave behind all you were before, and be born again in the blood of the Lamb?"

"Yes!" Impatient now. He just wanted this awful thing to be over with so they could move on and he could push this event out of his head like all the others, like he'd done so many times before.

"Jesus, wash this man clean...Father, make him born again...Lord-." But before the preacher could finish, Booker began wrestling himself out of the man's grip.

"No no no wait, stop it! Stop it! No, get off me! Get off!" He set himself free as he waded through the water, shoving the other people aside only to come face to face with Elizabeth. Though Booker didn't notice, too caught up in his own panic to see, Dante realized that the people and preacher disappeared. He casted a cursory glance around for them, but that wasn't his main concern right now and anyways, it didn't matter. Elizabeth was already onto Booker.

"You didn't go through with it." Elizabeth approached him cautiously, reaching it a hand which he smacked away. To her credit, she didn't even flinch.

"You think a dunk in the river's gonna change the things that I've done?" Booker questioned angrily, scoffing. He shook his head, taking Elizabeth's proffered hand with far more grace than he felt. He ranted as she led him up the stairs and to the door behind where the 'baptism' had taken place. "Let's get outta here. These doors of yours, they're all tears, right? Well open one up! Open one up to Paris. I want to be shut of all this."

"Not until we find Comstock."

"Comstock's dead!" He wrenched his hand from Elizabeth's and she placed it on the door instead, a determined look on her face and fire in her eyes, her voice. Booker was suddenly, startlingly reminded of his late wife. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but he only succeeded in making his headache worse.

" _No._ He was here."

The duo heard a buzzing noise as Dante had taken out his sonic screwdriver, the tip glowing and a steady hum resonating with it. He stepped out of the river and made his way up a hill towards a small shack. But instead of going straight in, he turned left sharpley into what appeared to be an overgrowth of bushes. He stuck his head back out before saying, "Come along then."

Elizabeth and Booker frowned, both of them confused for once instead of just one of them. But Elizabeth was still running on the…not confidence, exactly, but assurance of everything she now knew and walked into the overgrowth first, followed only a moment later by Booker. What they saw made them even more confused.

"A blue box?"

Indeed it was a blue box, or, more specifically, a 1960's police box from Britain. Of course, neither of the two early 1900's natives knew that, and would be lucky if they even lived long enough to. Said box's windows were tinted so they couldn't see inside, and there was a small compartment door built into the left hand door.

"Yes, a blue box. _My_ blue box. Well, technically not _mine_ but technically not his either, despite having had it over a very long time." Dante explained, keeping it vague to annoy Elizabeth just a little further before taking out an oddly shaped key. Placing it inside the keyhole, he turned it and the door swung open, revealing darkness inside. "Well come in," he said somewhat impatiently as the other two just stood there, dumbfounded. "I just need to find the light switch."

"Dante, we don't have time for this," Elizabeth said, frowning as she looked at the inside of the box. Considering the dimensions of it, there shouldn't _be_ any shadow so dark inside it that it hid Dante and the inside from few. Was the strange box, some kind of door to somewhere else like the lighthouse?

"My dear Elizabeth, we have all the time in the world and I...almost got it...and...there!"

The lights flicked on and Booker and Elizabeth were both stunned by what they saw. The inside of the box was _massively_ bigger on the inside than the outside, and had gleaming steel everywhere as they walked inside without thinking about it. The center of the room was dominated by a massive rotor and control console of some kind, with smaller panels around the room. Small staircases went to higher and lower platforms, steel hand railings around the middle platform and walk in. The technology they could see was far sleeker and more futuristic looking than what they were used to.

"What the hell…?" Booker said as he looked around them.

"Welcome to the TARDIS, that's Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. It's a ship that can travel through space and time." He said, snapping his fingers as the doors closed behind the other two.

"It's smaller on the outside." Elizabeth said, no longer looking calm and collected as if she had all the answers, but full of mild shock and some wonder.

Dante looked somewhat befuddled and feeling a slight tinge of disappointment. "Not the first time someone's said that, but yes, this is my secret." He began pacing around the console, flicking a switch here or pressing a button there. "Y'see, I'm not from this universe and I'm not exactly human."

"What do you mean, not human?" Booker asked carefully.

"A normal human doesn't have two pulses." Elizabeth explained. "By that logic, you have two hearts, which, yeah, a normal human doesn't have."

Dante raised an eyebrow, surprised. "How did you-?"

"I checked your pulse after Songbird brought down the First Lady," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Ah. I see. Well as long as we're here, feel free to ask me anything. Keep in mind that some questions I'll refer not to answer to due to privacy. Otherwise, fire away."

"Arlight, I got one. Who are you, really? _What_ are you? Why are you here-"

"That's three questions, Booker," Elizabeth said, half-amused, half-serious.

"In order: my name is Dante Price, I was born in New York and I'm half human, half time lord. As for why I'm here, our mutual acquaintances asked me to help." Dante explained.

"Who is our mutual acquaintance? And what is a time lord?" It was Elizabeth's turn to ask her own questions.

"We've seen them around so you'll know who they are; the Luteces. As for what a time lord is…" He scratched the back of his head. "They're the oldest living races in the universe, who invented time travel. A bit out of your element, and universe."

"And your mentor? Who is he?"

"He's The Doctor. Just the Doctor," Dante explained. At seeing Elizabeth's mouth open to inquire further, he rushed to explain. "He doesn't have a real name-he used to, but he's not telling anyone. So he's just The Doctor. He taught me everything I know, and then some. This is his box, but I think I've mentioned that."

"You did, yes," Elizabeth said rather absently, softly stroking the center console and admiring the dull shine of the metal. "This is a beautiful piece of technology. What year are you from?"

"Can't really pin down a date, but I come from the twenty first century."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and Booker actually started. "Holy shit," he breathed, looking at Dante in a new light. "The world's survived that long? Color me surprised," he chuckled humorlessly. "So what? You came from a time where New York wasn't bombed to hell?"

"Well...yes and no. Yes, New York wasn't bombed to hell but no, where I come from Colombia doesn't exist."

"Not what I meant, but huh. Lucky world, then. How do you know about us then?"

"The twins, obviously," Elizabeth cut in, still idly admiring the controls.

"How did they figure you'd be able to help us?"

Dante shrugged. "Guess they had a feeling." Clapping his hands together he added, "Well I'm gonna have to cut the Q&A short. Elizabeth," He pointed to a part of the console where it had organic looking pockets imbedded into them while making his way towards it. "Seeing as it'd be a shame not to show you both how it works, come over here."

"What is that?" Elizabeth asked as she made her way over, poking the console. "Eugh!" she cried. "Oh, it's all squishy!"

"Don't be rude. This is the telepathic controls," he took her hands and slid them into the pockets. "It's gonna feel weird at first, but just focus on where you want to go. And don't think of anything rude, you'll insult her." He went over to another part of the console and punched in a few buttons before looking at the monitor. "Ok, think of where you want to go. Don't let anything distract you."

"What do I do? Just...sink my hands in?" The thought clearly did not please her-she wrinkled her nose and took a few deep breaths, screwing her eyes shut.

"Exactly. It'll pinch at first but just go with it and then think of where you want go."

"Alright." And she did just that, sinking her hands in and wincing as they came into contact with the squishy, wet material. "Oooh. Squishy squish. I don't like it. Oh, you're right, it does sting. That's gonna hurt soon."

Dante just waved his hand. "Never mind that, just focus on where you we need to get to."

"Right. Of course." She closed her eyes in concentration, her brow furrowing while the rotor in the middle of the console started going up and down and the telltale noise of the ship could be heard. A few seconds left, there was an audible _**THUNK**_ as it signified that they had landed.

Dante checked the scanner to see if they were in the right destination and sighed in relief. "Alright we're here. Elizabeth you can let go now and Booker, take a look outside."

The ex Pinkerton walked through the door to see that they were inside his P.I. office back in New York. He turned around, curious, and noticed that yes, the blue box was _inside_ too. He stared in confusion, noting that although it did take up quite a bit of space, it was pushed off to a corner behind his desk on the left hand side so it didn't get in the way. He turned back around as he heard the police box door open, signlaning Dante and Elizabeth coming out, and watched as yet another of his forgotten memories played out before him.

"And what of my debts?" Booker felt himself asking the client, though he had not actually meant to utter the words. They just...came out. He now knew, however, that the client in question was Robert Lutece.

"Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt." It was the simplest sentence, and yet it held so much meaning to all of them. Those nine words had been uttered repeatedly since their journey began; now, it was only fitting that the meaning behind them finally be revealed.

Booker turned to face Elizabeth. "This is the man who hired me to find you," he explained as his memories began to return to him. Before, he had had only a vague outline of what the man had looked like, but now it was as if his face had never left him, as if he'd never forgotten the face that had haunted his nightmares for years. Taking... _something_ away in his arms as he left the dilapidated office, ignoring Booker's pleas and his stony expression never wavering.

Elizabeth seemed to not notice, or rather not question, his little revelation. "Really." She sounded unsurprised, or maybe simply accepting this fact with a calm she did not feel.

"Yes." He nodded, remembering the words, but not the true meaning behind them. "The girl for the debt."

Booker felt himself being drawn into a side room in which he opened the door, revealing a crib and inside contained...

"Wait, wait, no, this is wrong. What's this? There was no...there was no baby. I remember... No, there was no baby. And if there was, I sure as hell wouldn't give it over to this guy!"

"You can't leave this room until you do." Dante pointed out, his face neutral in expression though it did show some slight pity. Like it or not, this was a part of his story now too, and though it didn't technically affect him, it did affect the outcome of this situation. He didn't see what he could do to prevent what was already in motion at this point anyways.

"DeWitt! Time is running short." Robert called out from the main door, his normally passive expression now tainted with the burden of slight annoyance. "Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt."

Booker, hesitantly, and not at all willingly, proceeded to pick up the cooing child. She reached out a hand for him, curling a tiny finger and Booker recoiled, but not quite unkindly. His expression softened just a bit at seeing her, and a memory was trying to claw its way up from the depths of his mind to remind him of just who this child was. It didn't surface, however, and after a moment he sighed and looked at Elizabeth pleadingly.

Elizabeth shook her head sadly, an odd expression on her face. She nodded once in the direction of Robert. "Go ahead."

"No."

"You can wait as long as you want. Eventually, you'll give him what he wants."

"How do you know all this?"

"I can see all the doors, and what's behind all the doors...and behind one of them...I see him."

"Comstock." He looked at the baby again. She was still smiling. He walked towards the door, his eyes never leaving hers as he gives the infant to Robert.

"What choice do I have?" he said, and there was a distinct tone of sadness there.

"The debt is paid. Mr. Comstock washes you of all your sins." Robert nodded once at Booker as he turned around, adjusting the baby in his arms and then proceed to shut the door.

Dante touched Elizabeth on the shoulder. "I'll meet up with you guys." He whispered, so as not to be heard by Booker, before walking back into the TARDIS, the door locking behind him.

Booker almost immediately reached out to open it, but instead of stepping back into his office he now found himself back in the tiny rowboat he had begun this journey in, only this time, Elizabeth was sitting across from him, her arms crossed as she looked at him angrily. Dante was nowhere to be seen, but he didn't find it important at the moment to question the whereabouts of his partner.

"Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt," she quoted, shaking her head in disappointment.

Booker shook his head, not understanding why she was upset. Ok, maybe he understood a little. Giving a random baby to a random stranger? Elizabeth always had a softer soul than he. "There was no baby. The deal was, I go to Columbia to get you." Though he protested his innocence, and knew what he was saying was the truth, she still did not look like she believed him in the slightest. But she sighed, taking in his tired stance and the look on his face, and frowned.

"Booker...you're bleeding."

"No…" He refuses to believe it, even as he subconsciously reaches up to his nose and brushes away the wetness dripping from it. "I remember what I remember…"

The towers of the boat now decided to chip in, and Booker suddenly recognised them as the infamous twins, Robert and Rosalind. His eyes widened in suprise at not recognizing them sooner.

"Now we've upset him," one of them said, their tone clipped but slightly amused. Booker couldn't tell which one it was, though the distinction should have been obvious-but he didn't care, either.

"I don't expect this next bit will do much for his mood," the other replied, and Booker could picture them shaking their head.

They landed at the same dock Booker got off of at the start of his venture as Elizabeth climbed up the latter first. She kneeled down as she reached a hand up to Booker, offering it with a slight shake of the wrist to indicate its presence.

"Come on."

Once he climbed up, he saw, to his dwindling surprise, the TARDIS was parked next to the doors of the lighthouse. The pilot/resident of said box was walking down the dock to meet them.

"Had to take the TARDIS to catch up, obviously couldn't fit on the rowboat. Though I did program it to follow us to our destination so I'll be accompanying you through the rest of the trip." He explained, now walking with them towards the lighthouse doors.

Booker just sighed in frustration. "What are we doing here? Comstock's dead. We can just...go on with our lives, you don't need to-"

"Dead?" Elizabeth cut him off. "You mean like Chen Lin? Like Lady Comstock? He is alive in a million million worlds. It's not over because the Prophet is dead. It will only be over when he never even lived in the first place."

The enter through the lighthouse doors as it opens up to an rainy alleyway. Comstock, the Luteces and the baby Booker traded are there. Rosalind was on the other side of an open portal bickering with Robert.

"The field's rather unstable." Robert complained, not seeming to grasp the intensity of his current situation. He complained rather like a small child who hated baths would react at being told he had to take one. Quite unfitting for a man out of his universe, helping to steal a random child from her home.

"It's fine, hurry!" his twin coaxed, throwing a hand out and gesturing towards herself.

Booker found himself once again being drawn towards the scene ahead as he began to walk forward. "Hey...hey, the deal is off, you hear me? The deal is off! Give her back. Give her back!"

"'Fine?' Are you mad?!" Robert wrinkled his nose distastefully, stepping just a bit further away from the tear.

Rosalind groaned audibly. "No! You will not get caught between, come!"

"It is comfortable enough as it is!"

"It's going to be more uncomfortable if you don't come now!"

The two bickered back and forth for several moments, Rosalind getting visibly more agitated as Robert refused to jump to safety.

"I'll wait, thank you!"

" _We are going to lose our window!_ "

Booker suddenly noticed Comstock standing behind Robert, bouncing the baby in his arms rather violently as she screamed and wailed. Booker suddenly saw red as he quickened his pace.

"Give her back, you son of a bitch!"

"It's ready, go!" Rosalind signaled.

Booker bolted forward. "No...no no no! No! Anna! ANNA!" He nearly missed them but managed to grab hold of Anna as he and a younger Comstock started wrestling for her.

"Shut down the machine! Shut down the machine now! Do it!" Comstock yelled as he managed to yank the child from Booker's hands at the last second.

" _Give me back my daughter! Noooo!_ "

The portal to Lutece Labs closed, but Anna wasn't pulled through in time. Her hand was still outstretched, her pinky outturned, and the portal closed around it, severing it. Booker watched in horror as her cries faded and the pinky shriveled up and disappeared altogether in the blink of an eye. He then fell to his knees as he started to weep.

"Anna...Anna...no...no...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Anna. I'm sorry…"

It then dawned on him, as Elizabeth came up behind him to comfort him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and only when he looked at it, with its severed pinky, did he understand. Booker turned his gaze from her and he began weeping at Elizabeth's feet.

"Please. Forgive me. Elizabeth...Anna...my daughter. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry…"

He felt more than saw Elizabeth start in surprise at his apology, and she turned to Dante to ask silently what she should do. The hybrid in question gave her a slight nod and smile.

Softly, so, so softly that if he hadn't noticed her movement he never would have known it was there, she raised her hand from his shoulder to his head and patted his hair. She said nothing, but stood there calmly as her father lay at her feet, sobbing. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so...afraid. It was a startling change, and yet, she welcomed it. Slowly, the scene around them changed, and though neither Booker nor Elizabeth realized, Dante did. They were back in Booker's office. It took awhile until the other two noted the change. By that point Booker had picked himself up from the floor, wiping his eyes and immediately went over to the empty crib.

"You shared this room with your regret for almost twenty years...till one day, a man came to see you...offered you a chance of redemption. A chance for us to be together."

It was then a tear opened up to what he assumed was Comstock's world. There, standing on a rainy shore, was none other than the Luteces, both in bright yellow rain gear. But just as Booker stepped through, he immediately began losing consciousness. He wasn't aware of either Dante or Elizabeth stepping through the tear after him-he wasn't even sure that they did. He opened his eyes blearily a couple of times, but he only caught glimpses of what was happening above him.

"I told you it would work," Robert told his counterpart smugly.

Rosalind _tsked,_ inspecting the AD on Booker's hand with distaste. "We already know _it_ works. The question is, will _he?_ "

Booker's mind was still all a jumble, and, unable to form any coherent sentence mumbled incoherently. "Anna...Anna...I'm so sorry, Anna…"

"Do you suppose he branded himself as some sort of penance?" Rosalind questioned, still sounding disinterest and slightly bored.

"Hmmm…"

"I don't see the point," Rosalind continued, as if her partner hadn't interrupted. "What's done is done. What's done...WILL be done."

Robert merely hummed again, shaking his head. "I suppose the brand is his hair-shirt, as he is ours."

They then proceed to drag Booker along, the man coming in and out of consciousness but still muttering away.

"...and wipe away the debt...bring us the girl and wipe away the debt…"

"See, he's starting to put his story together…"

Rosalind raised an eyebrow. "Hm. You're quite fond of this theory of yours."

"He's manufacturing new memories from his old ones," Robert defended his theory.

"Well...the brain adapts."

"I should know...I lived it."

" _Booker, wake up_."

Booker's mind snaps back to normal as his eyes slowly opened. He sees that he's in the Luteces' rowboat again, but this time the ocean and weather being calm instead of stormy and violent. Another thing of note is that both Dante and Elizabeth were sitting across from him as the twins rowed. It was a mirror of what had happened at the beginning of all of this.

"Booker…" Elizabeth tried again. "Wake up...this is where it started."

"I sold you... _I sold you…_ " He put his head in his hand and moaned.

Rosalind barely glanced behind her as her passenger came to. "To your credit, you did try to weasel out of the deal."

Booker furrowed his brow. "This is all Comstock's fault…" He heard Rosalind mutter an _oh dear_ in front of him, but he paid it no heed. "What if I went back...killed him before he did any of this?"

"Things get set in _motion_ ," Rosalind, to her own credit, tried to warn him without actually revealing what it was he was being warned about.

"How would one know how far back to go?" Robert decided that now was an astute time to chime in.

"That's the only way to do it," he murmured resolutely, nodding once as they reached the lighthouse again. "Go back to when he was born...and I'll smother the son of a bitch in his crib."

Once more, they disembark at the lighthouse, repeating their earlier motions almost to the letter. Before Booker opened the door, Elizabeth's hand gently grasped his. Dante stayed back a bit, hearts pounding in his chest. He knew what was coming. He'd known and now everything was about to be revealed. But what then? Would he be allowed to continue his travels in time and space? He knew what the future held for the two in front of him, but what about himself?

"Booker...are you _sure_ this is what you want?" Elizabeth's tone seemed almost pleading-though she had pushed him to this, it seemed she was not fully ready to face the hard truth of what had to be done.

Booker shook his head sadly-though he had no possible way of knowing, it appeared that he already knew he would not be leaving this place. "I have to...it's the only way to undo what I've done to you." He removed his hand from her grasp, more gentle with her than he had ever been. He pushed the door open. Suddenly they were right back at the baptismal ceremony he passed up earlier.

Preacher Witting was there again, a serene smile on his wrinkled face. "Booker DeWitt, are you ready to be born again?"

Booker started, looking around frantically for Elizabeth, and it was a second before he located her. "What is this? Why are we back here?"

"This isn't the same place, Booker." Elizabeth explained, coming up behind him but staying a bit away from him.

"Of course it is, I remember-...wait, you're not...you're not...who...?" He turned around to see other versions of Elizabeth that had started to gather. In the back of his mind, he noted that Dante had mysteriously disappeared yet again. He backed away a fraction, the cold water sloshing around his ankles. He barely felt it.

A second Elizabeth spoke up, coming into view from seemingly nowhere: "You chose to walk away."

Another Elizabeth chimed in: "But in other oceans, you didn't. You took the baptism."

"You were born again as a different man." Yet another Elizabeth emerged from...wherever, and Booker started to feel like he was in some deep trouble, whatever was going on. All of these Elizabeth's were the same, and yet so, so different. And then, something just... _clicked_. How Comstock was able to foreshadow him despite never hearing of or meeting the man. How he even knew his own personal history that only people like Slate knew.

"Comstock," he managed, amidst his horror and shock.

A fourth Elizabeth approached the gathering, "It all has to end."

A fifth. "To never have started."

Sixth. "Not just in this world."

"But in all of ours."

"Smother him in the crib." Booker said, his voice hollow and his mind numb.

A chorus of "smothers" emitted from the group, sending chills down his spine as each one was uttered. They gathered closer together, moved towards him in unison, and each one fixed him with the same empty look.

"Before the choice is made…" his Elizabeth said amidst the ensemble.

"Before you are reborn…"

"And what name shall you take my son?" He was no longer facing the preacher, and his mind was a million different places at once, but he could still hear him, faintly. He didn't dare turn back to him, as another of the Elizabeths, coming from seemingly nowhere, grabbed his arm.

"He's Zachary Comstock," she whispered, horrified. Her blue eyes looked at him in a way that he never wanted to be looked at again. Distantly, he realized that he wouldn't. No one would ever look at him again, because...

"He's Booker DeWitt," another Elizabeth protested, grabbing his other. She pulled it to her chest as the one on the right did the same.

"No...I'm both."

It all happened so fast after that-his Elizabeth, the Right Elizabeth, and the Left Elizabeth all pushed him down into the water in unison, holding him down. Of course he struggled-it is human nature, after al, to struggle to survive, to fight when there is no hope of winning and even when you so desperately want to give in, your body won't let you. He took solace in the fact that it would all be over soon, and everything would be alright in a mere matter of seconds. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of calm overtake him, and as he gazed up at the faces of his daughters, even as he felt his heart slow and his vision fade, he felt at peace for the first time in a very long time. And with that, Booker DeWitt's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body went limp, and he was no more. Without his existence, the Elizabeths simply disappeared one by one, leaving his body to float in the shallow baptismal waters...that is, all except one.

The last Elizabeth, the one who this Booker saved, remained as she was, standing solemnly at Booker's feet as she gazed down at his body. Absently, she raised her hand to the choker at her neck, and thumbed at the pendant that was still hanging from her neck. She barely felt the water that was already seeping into her boots or the way that her skirt suddenly weighed just a bit more because of the wet hem. She spoke suddenly, her attention on Dante though her eyes were still on her father.

"Was it the right thing to do?" she asked quietly.

"You did what you needed to do. It may not have been right, but it was the only option." He abandoned his position at the edge of the river and waded through the shallows to come up behind her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You know, the Doctor has a little saying he'll quote whenever he or someone else needed a bit of encouraging: Never give up, never give in. And if you ever are, always make amends."

"Wise words." She smiled sadly. "Not sure how much good they'll do me." She was quiet for a moment before turning to him.

"It's more or less a promise. A promise that you will not commit actions that aren't out of fear or

hatred." Dante smiled.

She smiled for real at that, nodding as she turned back to the corpse of her deceased companion, but with a start she realized that it had disappeared. "Wait, where did it go?" She frowned. "Hmm. I suppose it doesn't matter. If he really was the last Booker, then he'll be returned to his home universe, with his own Anna. Everything will have set itself right, and he'll forget he ever met me."

"Well, let's see if you're correct."

She turned to him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, I'll show you." He offered his hand as she turned around to face him at last, and when she took it with no hesitation, the two made their way to the TARDIS which was parked, as it had been before, near the shack door.

 _ **XxxxxxxX**_

Damn, his head hurt.

Wait, why did his head hurt again?

"Aw, hell," Booker DeWitt groaned, pushing himself up off of his desk-damn, he'd slept at his desk again-and yawned. What a night it must have been. He must've been drinking if he'd passed out right here, on top of all this paperwork to boot. He looked around for a couple seconds to see if he could find the empty bottle, but he saw no sign of it. Oh well. He must have been drinking though, right? It would explain the insane dream he'd had.

As he moved to stand up and stretch his legs, he tried to remember just what the dream had been about-he recalled a girl, a kid no older than ninteen and two smartly dressed twins, and something about a giant metal bird. He scoffed to himself as he stretched his arms above his head, getting all the kinks out. Wasn't there a city in the sky somewhere in there as well. "A city floating in the sky? Pfft, ridiculous."

He moved out from behind his desk, taking a second to organize his paperwork-he noted that the Delancey case he'd taken not a week prior hadn't been solved yet, and that he'd have to work on that again as soon as he got some breakfast. He'd just made up his mind to take a quick smoke before heading out to the deli across the street when he heard a faint noise coming from the closed door adjacent to his workspace. He turned towards it curiously.

It was the door to Anna's room. He suddenly felt a jolt of fear run through him-why, he wasn't sure, it was just his baby girl and it wasn't unusual for her to be up this early. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was just inexplicably _wrong,_ and so he made his way determinedly to the door and firmly wrenched it open-damn thing was always getting stuck.

"Anna?" he called out, not quite knowing what he was expecting.

And there she was, Anna in her crib, swaddled by her blue baby blanket and looking curiously at something in the corner of the room. There was nothing there, though, and Booker just chalked it up to her being an infant. He walked over to her, a small, rare smile on his face, and he picked up his child as she cooed at him. He stayed like that for a bit, just standing over her crib and holding her, before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

 _ **XxxX**_

In the TARDIS, where Elizabeth and Dante had retreated to rather hastily when they heard Booker coming in, Elizabeth sighed as she watched the two of them leave the room, Booker whispering to Anna words too soft for either of them to hear. It was...strange, to say the least, for Elizabeth to see him this way. The Booker she had known had been nothing but sharp edges, harsh words and sullen glares. _If you don't draw first, you don't get to draw at all._ A true ex-soldier, still subconsciously reliving his so-called glory days. But this…

He had been soft when he had picked up his child. His face was kind, his words as warm as the baby he held and just as sweet. He had _smiled._ Elizabeth had never seen him smile before. A tear fell down her cheek as she realized that one, though this was the Booker she knew, she didn't anymore, and two, she would never really know this Booker, and he would not know her. But Anna...Anna would, and for her, she was happy. She was finally getting the life she deserved.

She turned to Dante as they heard the faint slam of the front door. They must have left, but to where…? No matter. It wasn't their concern. She turned to Dante, a sad smile creeping upon her face. "Well, it seems I was right."

"Yes, yes you were." He smiled back at her, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Now," he flipped a few switches as he spoke and hit some buttons. "Paris?"

She nodded, for once absolutely sure of one thing. "No. Not yet. But...soon. There's still one loose end left. One that shouldn't exist, and is an anomaly in and of itself. I need...I need to do this alone, Dante. This is my fight, my battle. I know that sounds cliche, but it's true. I'll come back to you once it's done, and we can go to Paris and wherever else you want." She took his hands and smiled, squeezing them gently in reassurance. "Just this one thing first."

"I...see. So where should I drop you off?"

"The Sea of Doors. And...I need to give you something. As a token of...uh...oh, just take it." She undid the broach on her neck and placed it in his hands, wrapping his fingers around it. "Keep it. And don't forget about me. This isn't goodbye, but...just in case."

"How about a see you later?" Dante suggested, pulling the lever as the TARDIS began it's flight.

"See you later is good." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, smiling into it, and then as suddenly as it began it ended, and soon they had left Anna DeWitt's room and traveled across time and space to the Sea of Doors, where Elizabeth stepped out.

"I'll see you later." She sighed, looking up and around at the thousands of "stars" that dotted the sky. Even if they were just stars, they would still be the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She turned to Dante. "Wish me luck. I'll come back. Or...maybe you'll come to me. Who knows." A sly grin. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

Dante gave her a small smile in return. "Yes, we shall."

Elizabeth turned and walked into one of the lighthouses while Dante closed the door to the TARDIS and went back to the console. His slight smile turned to a face of concern as he began setting in coordinates back home. But before he pulled the lever, he turned his face upwards and spoke out loud, "You two there?"

"We always are."

"And never are."

"Two sides of the same coin-"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha." Dante waved a hand, turning around to see the twins standing there. "I got a favor to ask."

"A favor?" Rosalind arched an amused eyebrow.

"I suppose that's fair," Robert conceded, glancing at his sister. "After all, we did ask him one. It's only fair he get to ask the same of us."

"Hmn." His sister was still unimpressed, but she nodded once. "Very well. You may proceed to ask us this... _favor._ Keep in mind though that as omnipresent beings of this universe and every other, while we do have the power to do nearly anything you ask, it does not mean we will do so. Proceed."

"Nothing quite so complicated as that," Dante reassured them, raising his hands in surrender. "Just a heads-up. Elizabeth, as you know, is on her way to Rapture right now to kill the final Comstock. I'd like to know when she gets close, if you catch my meaning."

"I see." Robert titled his head curiously, far more willing to show any semblance of human emotion than his counterpart. "Are you planning to intervene?"

"I am, yes."

"Very well. We shall notify you at once. Please do not scream shrilly or throw things at us in fear if we approach you at an unexpected time. It _has_ happened before, you know." He then turned to Rosalind, a small smile gracing his thin lips. "There, you see? That wasn't as bad as you imagined."

"Hmn. Quite." She scanned Dante up and down, calculating. Finally, she nodded, seemingly pleased with whatever she discovered. "Adding to my brother's request, please do not put the state of the universe at stake, and please do not cause any paradoxes, pocket dimensions, or create any alternate dimensions during your perceived rescue attempts."

"I make no promises."

"Do not try to play dashing daredevil with me, young man. I am serious."

"I don't think there's any convincing him, Ros."

She turned sharply towards her brother at the nickname, then sighed in defeat at the amused smile on both his and Dante's faces, shaking her head. "I am completely serious. If you muck anything up, we shall have to keep an annoyingly close eye on you henceforth. Do you understand?"

"Yes, _mom_."

" _Young man-_ "

"Rosalind, come off it. He's got to get going, and so do we. We can micromanage him from afar, in a cafe with a nice luncheon and a cup of tea. Come along." He side-eyed Rosalind with a look that she had seen so many times that she didn't even need to look to know he was giving it. She shook her head again, turning a bit towards him.

"Very well. You're own your own, Mr. Price. Thank you for your service, and despite your... _insolence_ ," and here she wrinkled her nose at the word, the first change in her expression she had shown this entire conversation, "do not hesitate to call upon us again. However, we will not resurrect the dead, change anyone's fate, or do any of the things we have just forbidden you from doing." She gave a slight bow, pursing her lips and folding her hands together in front of her as she stepped back. "I do not presume to be certain of anything in this universe or any other, but if I was, I would be certain that our paths will cross again. Yours is one face I could not mind seeing again. It's a nice change of pace to talk to someone else who truly understands the delicacies of this universe. Good day."

Robert did the same, bowing just a little deeper than his sister and allowing another smile to grace his face. "It has indeed been a pleasure, Mr. Price. I do hope my sister is right, and that we will meet again soon. I do hope you are successful in retrieving Miss Elizabeth from her watery fate, and I wish you the best of luck." He too stepped back, taking his place beside his sister, and as the lights flickered out and Dante was thrown into complete darkness for half a second, he could have sworn he saw Rosalind smirk.

Turning back to the console, he flicked a couple of switches, adjusting his course before turning on a tape deck that was left out. Must've been fixing it before he decided to work on the TARDIS and...well, the rest was history. Dante smiled as he heard the familiar soothing voice of Bobby Darin, filling the silence with soft notes and happy auras. He set to work as the music washed over him, flicking a final switch before the TARDIS whirred and they disappeared from the Sea of Doors.

" _Somewhere, beyond the sea..._

 _Somewhere, waiting for me..._

 _My lover stands on golden sands-_

 _And watches the ships, that go sailing..._

 _Somewhere, beyond the sea..._

 _She's there, watching for me-_

 _If I could fly, like birds on high..._

 _Then straight to her arms I'd go sailing..._

 _It's far beyond a star-_

 _It's near beyond the moon..._

 _I know beyond a doubt-_

 _My heart will lead me there soon…"_

 **TO BE CONCLUDED IN DPMJ: TOMB OF DREAMS**


	16. Afterword

**Afterword**

 **RoninS636** : One year. That's how long this story took to complete, one year. I still can't believe it myself but here it is. 15 chapters, over 95k words and a whole lot of editing, transcript reading, longplay watching and idea shooting. Speaking of the last thing, I gotta say, this story could not have come to fruition without the help of fellow fanfic author and co writer: misterbubblesishere. And here they are to say some words.

 **misterbubbleishere** : Oh, gosh, how to say this: first of all, the fic was a total monster to write. Even though at a mere glance it would seem otherwise (I mean, we pretty much had the plot already written for us), any author knows that it's a lot more difficult than it seems. 95k words later, here we are, and wow, what a journey it's been. I wanna thank RoninS636 for reaching out to me for help in the first place-my dude, this was a lot of fun and hard work but it paid off.

 **RoninS636** : Indeed it was and it certainly has. That said, we did take a small break from it to write a one shot that will be published once Tomb of Dreams (the sequel) is complete. And for any aspiring author who reads this afterword is considering on writing, have a friend or a group of friends who know what you know and maybe then some and ask them for tips, feedback or even ask them to help write. Heck, this story alone help get me out of writer's block on more than one occasion. Finally I want to say thank you to everyone who favorited and followed this story and I'm hopeful that we'll see you next time in DPMJ: Tomb of Dreams.


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